Calling for You
by GreenAppleAddict
Summary: Cardverse!AU. Arthur, future Queen of Spades, lives a lonely life trapped inside the castle walls. Until he meets Alfred, that is – the son of a navy captain, and the boy he's been secretly admiring from afar. Full summary inside. USUK/UKUS.
1. Strange and Beautiful

Summary: Cardverse!AU. Arthur, future Queen of Spades, lives a lonely life trapped inside the castle walls. Until he meets Alfred, that is. Son of a navy captain, and the boy he's been secretly admiring from afar. They befriend each other, and soon their friendship develops into something more. But what will happen when war ensues and Alfred chooses to follow in his father's footsteps?

Pairing: USUK

Genres: Romance, Drama, Adventure, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort.

Rating may go up.

* * *

><p>"Hey, 'sup dude! I'm Alfred F. Jones. It's nice to meet ya...! Hey, are you okay?"<p>

Those were the first of many sweet words that Arthur would hear from that equally sweet and kind person. But he was not yet aware of what significant role the boy would play in his future.

So far he'd only seen the bright boy from afar, through the window of his personal carriage, longing for the warmth and freedom the outside world had to offer. And that boy, that sunny-haired and sky blue-eyed boy, looked like the very personification of it. He'd been at the harbour the first time Arthur laid eyes on him, helping the older boys and men with loading a ship. Arthur hadn't been able to do other but stare. The boy had appeared to glow in the sunlight, with the light reflecting from the sea dancing over his features, giving the impression of the world – or at least the boy – being underwater. It was an alluring thought for Arthur; having the whole world swallowed by the waves, having himself rest on the bottom of the sea while watching the multicoloured fish swim past, the silhouettes of huge ships grazing the water surface, shadowing him from the burning sun, looking oh so distant from where he lay. Arthur often dreamt about that, both at night and at day. It was a nice escape, he thought.

Since that day he'd visited the harbour daily, though always from the inside of his carriage. Something drew him to the boy, a weird mix of feelings that kept swelling up whenever he saw him. He'd known about his admiration for the boy, but first after a week of observing was he able to define the second feeling.

_Jealousy. _

Arthur envied the boy.

He was practically bathing in what had been stolen from Arthur, the one thing he desired the most; freedom.

Destined Queen of Spades, Arthur had been locked up since the day he was born. Not allowed anywhere outside the castle residence without at least a handful of guards; he felt trapped within the castle walls. Besides his own chambers the only place he could truly be alone was the Queen's private garden and the Holy Woods that lay on the castle's west side. The Holy Woods were not entirely within the royal grounds though; a stone wall split it in two parts, the other section belonging to the church and its grounds.

Arthur loved coming there.

Despite that the Queens Garden was absolutely beautiful; he much found that he preferred the forest.

The reason was that there were numerous of magical creatures living there. He'd always go there, sitting by the brick wall, he would either read or just enjoy their company.

Since he didn't get to know any peers, the creatures were the closest he had to friends. It didn't appear as if other could see them though. He'd once told the Jack about them, but he'd received a – what Arthur later placed as frightened – look, and had been told to never mention them to anyone. So Arthur hadn't.

He'd always looked up to the Jack who was currently running the country, almost completely on his own. The previous Queen had died in battle, an honourable death, as she'd always used to say. Arthur's aunt, the former King, had passed away when Arthur was seven. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his aunt had taken him under her wing, introducing him to the life of the castle. Their family, the Kirklands, had since long been positioned at either of the thrones as the King or Queen of the country of Spades. Therefore, the council found it evident that Arthur would take on the Queen's role, seeing how his aunt was still King at the time. She had soon fallen prey to illness though, and even though doctors and medics from all over the nation came, they hadn't been able to save her.

This left the throne next to Arthur's alone. Or what would be his throne – he would not be crowned as Queen until his sixteenth birthday, and was currently going under the title of Princess.

Titles weren't based on gender in Spades, and neither were professions – the exceptions being very few. Arthur therefore didn't mind his title. Quite the opposite actually, he was proud of it, as any other boy or girl would be. If it wasn't for the restrictions and responsibility that came with it, he would gladly take the throne without complaint.

Not that he did complain. At least not out loud in the castle. Alone in the woods with his friends was a completely different matter. He could talk with them about anything and they would never judge him, never say that he was ungrateful, and never scold him for wanting something else. So that was where he went when he needed to cry, when he needed to rant about the unfairness of his unwanted faith.

That was where he was, bawling his eyes out, when he first heard that sweet voice.

"Hey, 'sup dude! I'm Alfred F. Jones. It's nice to meet ya!"

Arthur turned his head towards the brick wall from where the voice had come. Looking up, he saw a boy – _the_ boy – sitting on the wall, dangling his legs while studying Arthur with a smile. The smile soon faded, however, as he saw the tears dripping down Arthur's cheeks.

"Hey, are you okay?"

'No!' Arthur wanted to scream, 'I certainly am not!' But instead he just kept quiet and stared at the boy with moist and bewildered eyes. He had a hard time processing what was happening. The golden boy – Alfred – was sitting there on the wall, talking to _him._ He was sitting there, watching him _cry_. _'Oh God.' _It was degrading, someone – and a stranger, none the less – seeing him cry. He was going to be the Queen of Spades; he couldn't show weakness to anyone, especially not his people. He was supposed to be strong – a role model, an un-budging tower.

He felt blood rush to his already flush cheeks when the situation dawned upon him. He desperately tried to wipe away the tears with his palms, but the salty drops just kept spilling from his panic.

"Come here," he heard the voice say, and looked back at Alfred who now was kneeling on the wall, right hand outstretched and offered to him. His intensely blue eyes were glazed with sympathy as he shook his hand slightly, encouraging Arthur to take it.

Arthur eyed it suspiciously through his bleary vision before hesitantly placing his hand in Alfred's.

He let out a cry of surprise as he felt himself being lifted from the ground. Alfred gripped around the fabric of Arthur's trousers with his other hand, successfully dragging him up next to him on the wall.

Arthur was about to scold his actions when he felt warmness enclose around him. Alfred tightened his embrace around the royal and gently stroked his back, adding a few pats from time to time.

"There, there... You feelin' any better?"

Arthur just stared out into the air in front of him, not sure of what to make of the situation. He was shocked to say the least. No one had held him like that since his aunt's passing five years ago, and the previously welcomed feeling now felt alien.

That didn't mean Arthur didn't like it though.

As weird as it felt, it was also strangely comforting, and he realised that he'd stopped crying – though that might had been from the shock.

"W-w-w-w-wha-," a sniffle, "what are you doing?"

"My mom does this whenever I'm sad. Feels good, doesn't it?"

Arthur dug his chin down into the other's shoulder as a reply. Eventually, Arthur stopped sniffing as well, and the only traces left of the tears were his rosy cheeks. They still stayed like that for a while longer though, relishing in the warmth, until the weirdness of it dawned upon Arthur and he slowly pulled away.

Alfred was grinning lazily at him. "Well, dude, ya feeling better?"

"Yes," Arthur replied shyly and gazed down as he found it impossible to look back at that beaming face, "thank you..." The brightness was once again reminding Arthur of what he couldn't have.

"No problem. But why were you crying?" Arthur stiffened slightly at the question and the embarrassment came back, blossoming on his face.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh, that's okay! I totally get it." An awkward silence ensued as both of the boys continued to sit quietly, none taking the initiative to move away first.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur finally asked.

"Huh?"

"On the wall. I haven't seen you here before."

"Oh, right. You come here a lot? Well, I was exploring the woods, and mom told me the area behind the wall was _extremely_ forbidden, so I wanted to check it out," he replied and shrugged. "Hey, how come you are here? And on the wrong side of the wall! Didn't anyone tell ye not to go there?"

Arthur shifted nervously. "Ah, well, you see... This is my side of the wall. I'm forbidden to enter yours."

"What? That's weird..."

No, that wasn't weird at all, but Arthur found he much liked for his identity to remain a secret. It would probably scare Alfred off if he told him, and now that Arthur had finally gotten to meet him he was not going to take any chances.

"Mhmm..."

A shorter silence followed, but Alfred was quick in breaking it before it turned uncomfortable.

"Hey, do you like the sea?"

Arthur stared wide-eyed at the question. "Yes."

"Awesome! My dad owns a ship, you see. He sails to all kind of places in all five kingdoms! I even went with him to Ace once. Have you ever been there? It's amazing! Everything looks so different over there. I'm totally gonna go back there someday. You see, I'm gonna be a captain, just like dad. Oh, and I'll serve under the Spadian navy, of course! Dad does that too. He's saved hundreds of people – awesome, huh? – I'm gonna do that too. Oh, and he's currently at the border to Hearts on a mission. It's so cool! Mom and dad actually met when-" and so he continued on, eyes sparkling more and more for every new sentence that leaved his lips.

Once the boy started talking, he apparently couldn't stop.

Arthur nodded a couple of times and asked a few questions to confirm that he was listening – something he'd learnt from countless political conversations with the council. He actually didn't mind not talking much himself, instead he found it amusing listening to the other – it was the first time he had an actual conversation with a peer, even if it mostly was one-sided.

Time flew by and topics changed. They ended up discussing everything from battleships to snowmen – to Alfred's surprise, Arthur had no idea of what the latter was – and the sun was soon beginning to set.

"Aww, it's this late already? No way... I need to be home before nightfall, so I should get going," Alfred said, a pout on his face.

"Ah, I see. That's too bad." Arthur couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. For once he'd actually enjoyed himself in the company of another person – an occasion that rarely happened in the castle. And he'd learnt a lot about Alfred. After watching him for weeks from afar, it was nice to actually get to know something about him – he hadn't even known his name before. Now he would have to go back to that old pattern again; constantly watching from a window and longing.

"Sure is, but hey, will you be here tomorrow?"

Arthur looked up and met the sky blue-eyes, hope slowly daring to peek into the corners of his mind.

"Yes."

"Awesome! I'll see ya tomorrow, then?" He said and jumped off the wall, landing swiftly on his feet and turning back to wave goodbye. His hand froze mid-air. "What's your name, by the way?" Alfred's eyes had taken a comically round form as he stared at Arthur.

The royal chuckled at the sight and tilted his head in amusement.

"Arthur," he said, leaving out his last name intentionally. He wouldn't reveal his position now, if ever. Not now that he'd finally gotten to meet with Alfred. He'd always been told not to lie, and Arthur didn't exactly enjoy it either, but he technically wasn't lying. Leaving out the entire truth surely didn't qualify as lying, Arthur told himself.

"Okay, see ya tomorrow, Arthur!"

Arthur nodded.

Alfred flashed him one last cheeky grin before waving goodbye and setting off through the woods.

Neither of the boys had any idea of what wheels had begun to turn that day, what future that innocent conversation had laid ground for, or what heartache that future would bring.

* * *

><p>AN

I've been seriously dying to write some cardverse! And I made Arthur a bit of a stalker... hehe. Anyway, they'll start off pretty young now, but they'll be in their early twenties when I've finished this, so fluffy scenes won't last forever.

And since Arthur will be _Queen_, I figured he'd be called _princess_ instead of prince... *tries to suppress laughter* as funny as it sounds, it makes more sense to me that way.

Reviews are much appreciated!


	2. Memory

"You're in an unusually good mood today," Yao remarked from the short side of the dining table – his current seat as Jack.

"Not really," Arthur replied, indifferently poking around a pea on his plate.

The young royal had had a smile – more or less noticeable – plastered on his face since he returned from the woods. A few maids he'd met in the hallways even stopped at the sight and asked what had brought upon his joyous mood. Arthur simply told them it was nothing and continued his stroll, but the faint hint of pink on his cheeks hadn't escaped the maids' notice.

"Where have you been all afternoon?"

Arthur looked up from his half-eaten meal to meet the gaze of the Jack.

"The Holy Woods."

A sigh.

"You truly enjoy going there, don't you, your Highness?"

Arthur stiffened at the formal addressing, but nodded none the less – smile wavering a bit, but not completely disappearing. "Yes, quite."

That was how the conversations usually were at the castle – choppy and stiff.

It used to be so much more lively when the former rule was still alive; the two women would always talk loudly and exaggerate, asking for Yao's and Arthur's opinions on lots of random questions and asking them to take sides in arguments – thus bringing them into the conversations. Everything had grown quiet after their passing, not only at the dining table, but the entire castle seemed to mourn their absence, even now years after.

The Jack and future Queen said their goodnights before departing once dinner was over – Arthur heading to the Queen's quarters while Yao went to the library to finish off some of his overflowing work.

Arthur was still smiling as he closed his eyes for the last time of the night.

* * *

><p>"Please concentrate, your Highness."<p>

"I am concentrating."

"Yes, but please do your work more properly. There is no need to rush, we have all day."

No, they didn't have all day. Or at least Arthur didn't, he didn't know and couldn't bring himself to care about Mr. Väinämöinen.

The small man had been shipped over all the way from Ace only to tutor the Spadian princess. It was usually an easy job, for Arthur was very gifted and ambitious and always engaged in his studies, but today it proved to be an almost impossible task.

Tino Väinämöinen had never seen his student this inattentive before. Sure, he worked through and read all his assigned texts quickly, but did so very absentmindedly and didn't really seem to remember anything of what he was taught. It appeared as if he just wanted to get it all over with as soon as possible.

"Done!" Arthur exclaimed and slammed his pen down at the now full paper, rising from his chair and preparing for his escape of the room when Tino cleared his throat.

Arthur watched exasperated as Mr. Väinämöinen gestured to yet another bunch of blank papers and flipped open a new page in his textbook.

"Sorry, your Highness, but we are still not quite done yet."

Arthur sighed and scanned the open pages in his book before turning to look at the golden clock placed on the desk; it was ticking at a deceiving pace Arthur could've sworn was way too fast for seconds.

"Sir, can we please make an exception?"

"An exception?" Tino echoed, arching a blond eyebrow.

"Yes, I understand that I cannot skip out on the work completely, but would you please consider the possibility of me doing it outside – and on my own – instead?"

Tino seemed to ponder the idea for a moment before answering, "I suppose we could make an exception. The weather is really nice after all... But it's only for today! And only if you can make sure to concentrate and do it more properly."

"Yes, of course! Thank you so much, sir!" Arthur quickly gathered his things before hurriedly walking towards the door, shooting his tutor an appreciative smile before leaving. Tino was a bit taken aback by the last gesture, but still returned it. It was a long time since he last saw the royal smile like that.

* * *

><p>"ARTIE!"<p>

Arthur looked up from his book at the peculiar call. His gaze landed on a pair of blue eyes, framed by blond fringe. The royal tried not to smile, but felt the corners of his lips betraying him.

"Greetings Alfred. You do realise my name is _'Arthur'_, right?"

"Of course I do! Artie's a nickname. Sounds cute, doesn't it?"

Arthur's face immediately turned red and he started to stutter something incomprehensible. Alfred only laughed.

"What are those books, by the way?"

"Oh, yes, I usually have lessons at this time o' day, but my tutor gave me permission to do the work here instead."

Alfred looked thoroughly shocked at this.

"WHAT? But it's Sunday! There's no school on Sundays!" Alfred exclaimed and climbed up on the wall. Arthur scowled at how easily he'd done it – he himself had struggled quite a lot before managing to finally get up, and he didn't look forward on watching the face of his maid as she came upon his used-to-be pure, ivory dress shirt.

"Ah... Well, I have a private tutor. I don't go to a public school."

Alfred picked up Arthur's textbook and started to skim through it, his eyes widened the farther he got. "The text is so small! You seriously read this?" He said and handed the book back to Arthur. "Oh my God, your handwriting! Are you kidding me? You're amazing, dude!"

The boy had caught sight of Arthur's notes, all written in slim script, and was clutching the papers with his jaw hanging open. This time it wasn't only heat, but pride as well, that flowed up to Arthur's head.

"Thank you."

"You're, like, really good, huh? Is that why you're not in school with the rest of us – because you're some kind of prodigy?"

There was a short silence as Arthur pondered how to answer. "I suppose you could say that; yes," he settled for.

Once again it wasn't as if he'd completely lied. He shouldn't have any need for a bad consciousness, but something in the back of his mind still grimaced as the words left his lips.

"Wow! Dude, that's so cool! I wish I was special like that. People only know me 'cause of my dad – son of the navy captain, ya know? There really ain't nothing special 'bout me," Alfred said with a sad shrug.

It all sounded so wrong to Arthur – and not only because of the boy's weird accent, which he'd without doubt picked up from years at the harbour.

Alfred wasn't special? But most of all; he wanted to be? Why would anyone ever want that? Arthur himself would do anything to be normal – live a normal life in a normal village, surrounded by normal people who went on with their normal lives. And that liberty of doing anything he wanted without being told he couldn't, couldn't because that would be improper for the future Queen.

With all of these thoughts swarming in his head, Arthur only stared blankly at the other boy.

"Now... why would you ever want that? Aren't you happy with your life as it is?" Arthur asked and thanked his voice for not wavering.

"Of course I'm happy! I just gotta work really hard to live up the expectations my family has. They want me to be like dad, and so do I, of course, but there is pressure, ya know? They don't expect as much from my cousin, for example... Have I told you 'bout Mattie, by the way?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Oh, well, he's my cousin! Matthew's his name, but I call him Mattie, so you can do that as well. He's a bit quiet and shy around people, but I really like him! He always brags about being older than me though, but he really isn't! Our birthdays got, like, two days between 'em, so that doesn't count, right? Everyone also says we look like twins, but we're not really alike – at least we don't think so – so please don't say that if you see him... Anyway, besides the age-thingy he's really awesome! I'm sure you'd love him if you ever met. He lives in Diamonds, so we haven't met in a while. I usually go with dad when he visits during summer, but since he's at Hearts I won't see him this year. Sad, but hey, things are-"

Alfred once again went into a talking rant, and Arthur nodded, making small notes in his papers occasionally – he'd already known he wouldn't have any time for actually working once Alfred arrived, so he'd hurried beforehand.

"-It's so awesome! Do you like apple pie, Artie? Or Arthur... Can I call ya Artie? It really fits you!"

Arthur blushed slightly and glued his eyes on his assigned text. "I-I suppose, if you insist."

"Great! I'm gonna call you Artie then... So do you like apple pie, Artie?"

"I'm not sure... I do like blueberry pie though."

"What do you mean you're 'not sure'?"

Should he lie? No, he'd already decided to not lie to Alfred. The castle's policy for desserts was quite odd. Since the main colour for the Spades nation was blue, they only served desserts under that colour scheme. Arthur didn't understand why this was necessary, but he'd been told it had something to do with old traditions. Since apples were either red or green, Arthur had never been served apple pie.

"I've never eaten it before."

Alfred gave him a weird look.

"You're kidding, right? You've never eaten apple pie before?"

Arthur only shook his head.

"Well, my mom's making apple pie for dessert tonight... Do you wanna come over? I'm sure she'd be happy to have you there."

'_Yes!'_ Arthur almost wanted to scream, but never did since he knew it was impossible. Even if Alfred's family didn't know about his title, he still wouldn't be allowed alone outside of the castle residence. Sneaking out wasn't really an option either since his presence was expected at dinner.

"T-thank you for the kind offer, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I'm not allowed on your side of the wall, remember?" The words left cuts in Arthur's throat, but he swallowed and tried to keep a good face.

"Oh... Yeah, sorry, I kinda forgot 'bout that..." Alfred said with a genuinely sad voice. "But I could still bring some, right? I can take some with me tomorrow!"

Tomorrow. Arthur hadn't even thought about tomorrow. He hadn't dared to hope, but to Alfred it apparently was like the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes, of course, that would be very nice of you. Thank you very much," he said with a smile.

Alfred was positively beaming at him now. "I will then, it's a promise!" he exclaimed and held out his hand, all fingers securely tucked in his palm except for his pinkie, which he was offering to the other boy.

Arthur gave him a quizzical look and eyed Alfred's finger suspiciously, before he asked what he was doing.

"Duh, it's a pinkie-swear! It's what you do when you want to make sure the other _definitely_ keeps their promise."

The royal continued to eye him sceptically, but extended his hand none the less. Alfred smiled and hooked their pinkies together, shaking their hands up and down before letting go. "See? Now it's for sure!"

Arthur felt himself smile at the alien gesture and the warmth that tingled through his hand.

"What is on your side of the wall, anyway?"

The smile was gone within a second. "Ah- ehm... well, you see..." Arthur should have seen that question coming, but for some reason he hadn't and was now completely unprepared. "It's not much really... only a few buildings." Once again he'd gotten around it without lying.

"Oh... but you live there?"

"Yes, I do," Arthur replied, trying to keep his cool and thanking his voice for its stability.

"Ah, do the buildings lie in the woods? How big is your side, anyway – the castle isn't too far away is it? Oh, have you ever seen the castle up-close?"

Arthur felt overwhelmed by all the questions and his mind desperately fought to keep up. The whole telling the truth – though not entirely – was proving to be much harder than he'd thought.

"We-well, some of them lie in the woods... And I'd say it's quite big." He let the questions about the castle unanswered on purpose, hoping that Alfred would forget about them.

"Oh... well, have ya ever been in the castle?"

'_Bullocks!' _

"Well... I've... Yes, I've been inside of the castle." Arthur frowned with uneasiness when he saw Alfred's expression light up with awe.

"Really? Wow, that's amazing! The closest I've gotten is outside the front gates... What does it look like – on the inside, I mean?" Alfred asked and leaned forward, eyes almost sparkling of excitement.

"Ah... It's very... _sophisticated._" The way Arthur said the last word almost made it sound like a question.

"Oh, well, is it nice? Mom told me it's incredibly pretty! And is it true that they have sapphire flowers there? I've always wanted to see one of those."

"I suppose it is, and yes, there are sapphire flowers... Wait, your mother's been inside the castle?"

"That's so awesome! And, yeah, my mom's the priest of the church just outside the woods; I always forget its name. Anyway, she went there five years ago when the King died – it was a while ago, but-" Alfred stopped himself when he saw the shocked expression on Arthur's face – the royal was staring straight at him with the emptiest eyes Alfred had ever seen. "Artie, are you okay?"

* * *

><p>"<em>What happened to Aunt Liz?" Arthur asked when a very tired Jack emerged from the King's bedroom. Yao gave him a sympathetic look before turning his head down. <em>

"_I am sorry, your Highness, but I'm afraid your aunt won't wake up again."_

"_So she's dead?" _

_Yao was startled at the straightforwardness of the seven-year-old, but nodded still. Arthur might be young, but he was not ignorant. He'd known about the seriousness of his aunt's disease for a quite some time, and had since long accepted the probable outcome. Even though he'd cried nights upon nights when realising this, he couldn't find anything to keep the tears from flooding again. And so, the young royal cried, tears streaming out from his emerald eyes at a rapid pace._

"_Is the poor princess alright? Why isn't anybody with him?" Arthur heard a distant, female voice ask. _

"_We'll attend to him in a minute; Hearts is currently at our borders and we need to keep the city calm, if we don't act correctly chaos might break loose," Yao said before hurrying down the hallway._

_Arthur felt a presence near, but didn't bother to look up until two arms closed around him and gentle hands started stroking his back, albeit a little hesitantly. He caught sight of blonde hair tucked into a messy bun and a bit of black clothing, but his position made it impossible for further inspection._

"_There, there, sweetie, it will be alright."_

_Arthur hadn't realised he'd started hiccupping until the woman patted his back soothingly. Arthur sat there in his armchair and let himself be comforted for a short while more before the woman pulled away._

"_I hope you'll excuse me for my inappropriate action, your Highness, but it looked like you could use a hug. I shall join your aunt now, princess, but I can assure you that you will be fine. _Everything_ will be just fine, okay?"_

_The young royal met the chocolate gaze of the smiling woman for a quick second before she stood and entered the King's bedroom, leaving Arthur confused and in lack of warmth._

* * *

><p>"Artie...! Artie... <em>Artie!<em>"

Arthur woke up from his memory and realised that Alfred had been shaking him roughly. "Yes?" he said, and Alfred looked relieved.

"You totally just spaced out, are ya okay?" he asked and tightened his grip on the future Queen's shoulders.

"O-oh, yes, yes I'm okay... But your mother... she's the priest?"

"Yeah, she is. Why?"

"Oh, no, never mind."

"Okay then, you got me worried there," Alfred said with a light chuckle and loosened his grip of Arthur's shoulders, though not completely removing it. Arthur returned the laughter with a half-hearted smile.

"So do you live by the church?" He asked when Alfred grew quiet.

"Yeah, the white house on the other side of the graveyard. Have you seen it?" The royal shook his head. "Oh yeah, you don't go to our church either, do you? Sorry, I forgot."

There was a private chapel on the castle grounds where the usual Sunday mass was held, so that Arthur wouldn't have to go to a public church. Arthur really thought the whole thing was unnecessary and that the council overdid it. But since Arthur was currently the only one in line to the throne, the rule was being very overprotective of him, not even daring to really acknowledge his existence to the outside world. Of course the people knew that there was a child who would take one of the thrones on its sixteenth birthday – that was the only thing keeping the Spadians relatively calm – but no one knew about this child's gender, age, or appearance. Hearts would likely send assassins to kill it if they knew its identity – they'd already made several attempts at Yao when he went out in public.

"No, I do go to church. Just not that one," Arthur assured him when he saw the questioning look Alfred gave him – he was the son of a priest after all. The boy seemed a tad relieved at this and finally let go of his shoulders with a smile. Arthur had somehow forgotten that his hands were still there and sighed at the lack of warmth, it was a familiar feeling – albeit not nice – after the short flashback.

The conversation after that went on like the day before, with Alfred once again getting into a talking fit and Arthur listening amusedly. They were not sure for how long they'd sat there, but Arthur had somehow managed to get all his work done and Alfred was lying lazily on the wall on his back, watching the royal upside-down. It almost felt natural, like they'd been in the same positions for years, like Arthur had known Alfred for years. Alfred still didn't know much about Arthur though, but the royal found he much preferred it that way. Too much information and it might ruin everything.

It was first when he saw the yellow-orange glow on Alfred's features that Arthur realised how late it was, and he told the other boy about it. Alfred sighed and sat up with a groan before jumping down from the wall. He still stood by Arthur's side though. "So, I got school tomorrow. I'll probably be able to get here by four if I'm lucky... Can we meet here then? If you want to, I mean!" He blurted out the last part as if catching himself saying something inappropriate.

Arthur laughed before answering, "Of course I do!" Alfred seemed happy at this, for his face turned into a huge grin.

"Awesome! I'll bring ya some apple pie then," he said and winked. He shouted a quick 'goodbye' and then he was off through the woods again, the golden light and shadows rolling over his already glowing features.

Arthur couldn't help but grin himself, but the rest of his face didn't show any emotion of happiness – quite the opposite; his eyebrows were knitted together and his eyes had the most longing look to them. Was this all really a good idea, he couldn't help but wonder. Alfred could get in trouble, the whole kingdom could get in trouble if his identity came out, and Yao could get in trouble because he hadn't watched over him properly. Yet, Arthur couldn't bring himself to regret it, because he was happy. For the first time in five years, he was truly happy.

And he was selfish.

He knew that.

But with everything the world had already stolen from him; he figured he deserved to be at least a little selfish.

With those thoughts weighting his mind, he too decided to return home. The dinner would be served in an hour, he thought when checking the grand clock in the great hall. The room was indeed called great for a reason, and he pondered what to do while waiting as he walked down the hall. When he finally decided to read, he turned off and headed down a hallway that would eventually lead to his chambers. He was just about to take a flight of stairs when a voice cut through the hallway, stopping him abruptly.

"I saw you!"

* * *

><p>AN

Wow! Thank you all for your reviews/favs/alerts! They truly mean a lot! I'm glad you all seemed to like the first chapter, but I'm afraid to say that I myself find this one a little boring xD More stuff will happen in the next one though – I promise!

Please leave a review and tell me what you think so far! They're greatly appreciated and works as a writing fuel for me! :3


	3. Follow Me Down

Arthur turned around with wide eyes to catch the gaze of his observer – the heart that previously felt like it would jump out of his ribcage calmed again as he recognized the young maid.

"'Saw me'?" Arthur echoed challengingly.

"Yes! You were sneaking off to the woods to meet with your _imaginary friends_ again! You're mad, you know that, right?"

"Yes, Angelique, so you've told me," he answered with a relieved sigh. Arthur had never liked the young girl; she was two years younger and always getting on his nerves. Being a servant, you would think that she'd show more respect towards her future Queen, but unfortunately for Arthur, Angelique didn't know about his significant role.

She'd been brought into the castle at an early age when one of the maids found her abandoned on the streets, and had since then been trained as a maid. She had not been told about Arthur's title since she went to a public school in the city, and the maids were extra careful not to utter his title in her presence. The princess himself hadn't minded this at first, but it was getting annoying how she'd sometimes insult him as if he was of lower standards than her. Sure, Angelique had been told that Arthur was an important person who should be treated with respect, but she rather imagined him being a son of a council member than that of royalty. Where her cheeky attitude came from, nobody knew. "Is there anything else you wanted?"

Angelique seemed disappointed at the meek reaction and huffed first before shouting, "Your eyebrows are weird!" After that, she left the hallway in the opposite direction, her dark pigtails bouncing from her fierce walk. Arthur sighed and gave a hopeless shrug, his hand subconsciously rising to his eyebrows. He knew that they were unusually big and a few shades darker than his blond hair, but he didn't think they were that weird. Angelique was always teasing him, so he tried not to think too much about it – what she had against him completely escaped his mind.

And so, he carried on towards his room to retrieve a book and endure the rest of the dull evening.

* * *

><p>"<em>So<em>, what do ya think? It's good, right?" Alfred was leaning over and watching intently as Arthur chewed on his first piece of apple pie. He'd brought the pastry in a small cloth and a fork to go with it. Arthur had frowned in confusion when he first saw it, but taken it all as a new experience with great curiosity.

"It's... different," the royal said, and that was just what he thought – it was _different_. He'd eaten apples before, of course, but never cooked ones. He just wasn't sure if he liked it or not; it wasn't like it tasted bad, but he still thought blueberry pie was better.

"Yeah, but do ya like it?"

"Yes, it's good. Your mother must be a gifted cook," Arthur said politely with a smile.

Alfred happily beamed back at him before once again lying down on the wall. He watched as Arthur ate with big and bright, blue eyes, and stayed quiet the whole time – much to Arthur's surprise.

Once he had finished the pie, they started talking again, though mostly it was Alfred telling Arthur about school.

Arthur thought it sounded like a nice place, but Alfred gaped in shock at him and insisted that he had no idea what he was talking about. Sure, it was fun meeting with all his friends, but he described the classes with absolute dread in his voice.

"-and then they force you to sit all quiet and _read_, like, for hours or so! It's _so boring!_"

Arthur was laughing as the boy continued his rant. They seemed so different and yet so alike.

"Hey, don't laugh! It's murderous, I swear!" Alfred tried, but he too was chuckling. "Trust me, you wouldn't survive a day."

"Pardon me; I'm sure I'd manage better than you!"

"Ha-ha, no way, dude! You'd be screaming out of pain after the first class."

"I would not!"

"Wanna bet?"

"I don't see why not."

"Great! Come with me tomorrow then."

"Oka- wait... What?"

"Come with me to school tomorrow," Alfred repeated. "You can't prove nothin' if you don't."

Arthur received a meaning look from the other boy and he felt himself swallow in distress. How did he manage to get trapped so easily? He really needed to keep his guard up better, but everything just flowed so naturally, he'd forgotten himself and slipped... a lot. His reasonable self told him that he should without doubt call the bet off, it could only bring trouble anyway. His selfish self, on the other hand, was filled with exaltation to accept. Nobody knew about him, after all, so what hurt could one day do? "Well... I..."

"C'mon, Artie! I know you said you couldn't cross, but can't you, like, sneak out or somethin'? It'll be fun, I swear! Or at least more fun than it is now... it's torture, after all," Alfred said with a light chuckle and grabbed Arthur's hands from where he lay, upside-down, and tilted his head to the side in a pleading way. "Please, Artie? Pretty please?"

He looked like some sort of abandoned animal, Arthur concluded, and couldn't help but melt at the sight. "Sure... Yes, I'll come." _'Damn,' _he thought, _'I'm too weak.'_

"Really? Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed and sat up. He drew in a breath through his nose which somehow seemed to fuel his grin. "I'll hurry there and say you'll be visiting then, okay?"

"Oh, right, but I'm not sure if I can get away... I have classes myself."

"Aww, can't you say you're sick or somethin'?"

"I suppose I could try," Arthur replied hesitantly. The thought of lying to Yao wasn't exactly the most tempting one. He'd always been told to tell the truth less someone – like the Jack – told him not to, and that rarely happened. This might be his only chance to get a real feeling of the outside world though, and that wasn't an opportunity he was going to miss.

"Great! I'll meet you here tomorrow then? Eight o' clock? School starts at nine but I'd like to show you around first," Alfred said, grin intact, before jumping off the wall.

Arthur nodded and waved the boy goodbye. It was first after Alfred had disappeared from sight that his situation dawned upon him. _'What the bloody hell did I just agree on?'_

* * *

><p>The next morning, Arthur told his maid he was not feeling very well, and she ran off to cancel his lessons and inform the Jack. The princess was usually woken up at seven o' clock so he had one hour to get to the wall. That shouldn't be too hard, right?<p>

Arthur jumped out of bed and quickly made his way towards his closet where he grabbed a casual, white linen shirt and brown slacks, before pulling out other random garments that would work as his replacement under the covers. He had told his maid that he wanted to sleep undisturbed in order to rest up, so neither she nor the other servants would visit him during the day. The royal had a golden bell in which he would ring if he needed something – that sound was directly connected to the kitchen, servant quarters, and other places where the servants might be during the day.

After changing into the more casual outfit and tucking in the other clothes under his duvet – a failed attempt at replacing his own sleeping form – he went out on his balcony to check for the ideal way to make his little escape. He was on the third floor and he doubted he could use the climbing plants growing up the walls to get down, as they definitely wouldn't carry his weight. Directly below him was the Queen's Garden and just at the end of it was a botanical maze with tall bush walls. If he made it there he would be shielded from view and able to reach the Holy Woods unnoticed, which was where one of the maze's ends led. In order to get there, however, he would have to go through the castle. _'Bullocks.' _

Why hadn't he planned this better?

Arthur quietly walked out of his bedchamber to enter his private living room. He stopped himself from leaving the Queen's chambers, however, and went back to his closet to retrieve a black cloak before walking to the door again. Even though the cloak would make him rather suspicious lest someone saw him, the royal liked the feeling of having something to cover himself with – he'd feel overly exposed without it, he figured. So with the garment securely tucked around him, Arthur peeked out in the hallway, before hastily tiptoeing down it. He'd need to be fast if he wanted to keep his trip a secret.

Arthur made sure to avoid the main hallways where the servants usually walked, and stuck to the smaller and more sheltered corridors. There were a few spiral staircases which he could take, but he was also forced to go down the Grand Staircase of the Eastern Wing. It was a huge flight of stairs, every other step altering between glass and sapphires. Its railings were made of silver with flourish gold engravings that ran down its sides. The whole thing almost appeared to be glowing in the lights of crystal chandeliers hung above it and was one of the most well-known structures from the castle – and one of the things Spades was proud to show off to the other nations when they visited. The western and northern wings also had quite impressive staircases and constructions, of course, but since the royals' quarters lay in the eastern wing, it was naturally the one that was most embellished. Arthur had always admired the stairs and could be found sitting there reading for hours when he was younger – that was before he made his friends in the woods. Now, however, the massive flight of stairs would likely become his death trap.

The princess warily peaked down the stairs from the corner of a branched off hallway. Two maids were chatting lively and slowly making their way up. Arthur recognized one of them as Svea Andersson, a tall and blonde woman who despite her stoic and reserved personality was surprisingly kind and good with children; she'd always been one of the princess' favourite maids. Arthur had been told that she was originally from Ace and still had family over there, but he'd never asked her, so he wasn't sure.

The other maid was actually the only one talking – though doing so quite enthusiastically. She was a local girl called Chun-Yan, who had been serving in the castle for years before Arthur's birth – though she didn't look old at all. She had dark auburn hair put up in two buns on each side of her head and kind, brown eyes. There were rumours about her being related to the Jack because of their identical features and her unknown surname, but they didn't act familiar around each other, and not everyone believed it to be true – Arthur being one of those who didn't.

The future Queen franticly looked around for a place to hide. His eyes settled on a window with thick curtains that could be pulled over as a cover. The royal skipped over and climbed up on the window frame, drawing the fabric over. He spared one glance backwards and was relieved to see that the small courtyard below was empty. The voices of the two maids – or maid, since Chun-Yan was the only one talking, Svea only humming from time to time – grew closer and Arthur held his breath. It felt to the royal as if the two servants were walking in slow-motion, but they soon passed, and Arthur could breathe out. He made sure no one was nearby before hastily walking back to the Grand Staircase and running down it.

He narrowly managed to avoid a few more persons he was dangerously close to encounter, but in the end, he made it to the Queen's Garden unnoticed. He looked around, and when confirming that no one was watching, ran across the slim path and jumped over a couple of flowerbeds into the maze. The labyrinth actually only accounted for a small part of the entire garden – the other ends of it led to the bigger division of it – but Yao wanted to keep an eye on him – at least somewhat – and therefore only allowed Arthur to be in the smaller section as well as the Holy Woods.

The princess had spent many hours exploring the maze in his younger days and was fortunately able to navigate his way through the network of bushes easily. As he reached the end of the labyrinth he checked his pocket watch. Twenty minutes left until Alfred would meet him. Arthur started a slow stroll and finally allowed himself to relax.

He couldn't believe what he was doing. It was against everything he'd been taught and extremely foolish. Yet, Arthur couldn't help the thrilling feeling that filled him at the thought. It was like adrenaline for the brain, something that made his hands twitch with excitement and left him with an overwhelming urge the run. Run not only because of the paranoia of being caught, but because his veins were being filled with a foreign and uncontrollable feeling that made him want to burst. Just burst and release all that energy building up. And when seeing that nothing actually kept him from it; he took a deep breath and ran. Arthur had never run like that before, ever. He stumbled on some roots that were sticking up but managed to stay on his feet, just relishing in the wonderful feeling of stretching his legs properly and the wind that blew through his blond hair. Laughter soon filled his lungs, and he struggled to keep an even intake of air through joyful gasps. Trees, bushes, stones, creatures; he passed them all by at an incredible speed – according to Arthur – and when he finally reached the wall he was panting like a madman.

"Hi, Artie! Are you okay, dude?"

Arthur smiled up at his friend who also appeared to have arrived early. Alfred was sitting on the wall and dangling his legs while watching him amusedly. The morning sun that sneaked its way down past the intensely green foliage of the treetops was bathing the boy in gold, generously sweeping over his features and making them shine.

"Yes, quite," Arthur answered, eyeing his friend in astonishment as he slowly walked over.

"Ah, that's good then. I almost thought somethin' was chasing you at first," Alfred grinned back at him. "So, are ya ready?"

The princess nodded in reply and grabbed the hand that had been extended to him. Alfred hauled him up easily with impressive strength for his few years. "Right, let's go!" he said, and before Arthur knew it, the other boy was standing firmly on the ground by the side of the wall and looking expectantly up at him.

The young monarch followed, but stumbled as he hit the ground. Alfred was quick in grabbing him, however, so there was no damage done. The still-grinning boy led the way through the labyrinth of trees with Arthur trailing just behind. "So we'll need to go over the church's grounds at first, of course, and then it's a pretty easy way through town. My school lies just at the borders of the eastern district, so it's right next to the canal. It's real pretty there! We sometimes make these small boats out of wood and follow them down the canal. We need to grab 'em before they reach the harbour, of course. Dad always told me that it could be dangerous because it is... hectic, he said, down there, so it is no place for us to play. I usually help out there though, so most people around there know me! They all treat me really nice, but some just does that 'cause of my dad. I think he's told 'em to look after me while he is gone... Or I heard him say it, actually. He thought I was sleeping on the docks, but I never sleep at work! Resting is not the same as sleeping, right?" Alfred finished his small speech with a sigh and looked back at Arthur. "We should go to the harbour, too, after school! I just _gotta_ show it to you – it's real' beautiful!"

"That would be lovely," Arthur replied with a chuckle. Alfred had no idea how many times the future Queen had already been there – already been there and admired its lively nature and beauty.

"When do you need to be home, by the way?" Alfred asked after they'd walked for a short while – or what felt like an eternity to Alfred – in silence.

"I need to be home by dinner... so I must be at the cas- _wall_ at about five o' clock latest," he answered, feeling nervous at his small slip.

Alfred seemed to look past it though and just nodded smilingly at him before turning his gaze to the invisible route again. "That should be enough time!"

A few moments later, their surroundings started to grow thinner until they completely disappeared and a large building revealed itself. It was the church – a structure made not out of stone, but small wooden panels shaped as scales, dyed in the four primary colours. It was a rather colourful building, but not disturbingly so. Even though the four colours normally would cut and strongly contrast with each other, the tones used on the church blended nicely together and gave it a natural look. Churches all over the world looked exactly the same when it came to the colour scheme. Even though religions were slightly different from place to place, the sacred buildings counted as havens during war and were absolutely forbidden to be damaged. In towns and cities where war earlier had raged, the only thing left standing was usually the church. A few additional houses might have survived the burning of the area, but the sacred sanctuary was always to remain standing. It didn't matter what country you were from or whether you were a simple peasant or highly ranked noble, all churches in every nation would accept you and let you in. That's why they were coloured in multiple shades – so that everyone knew that the building belonged to everybody, and was not allowed to be damaged.

Arthur eyed the church with wonder and let his gaze drift from the metal doors up to the clock tower placed next to the building. Engravings of spades could be seen in the gold of the clock even from the distance the royal was standing. That was just about the only thing actually revealing the nationality of the church's grounds, and it was also the only thing attackers were allowed to harm. As inconvenient as it was, the army usually carried clocks with their nation's emblems on with them when they were at war another country. They'd replace the church clock with one of their own kinds and thus signalling that the area or township had been conquered.

Arthur had always found the idea of carrying massive golden clocks when in combat stupid, quite frankly – they weighted an awfully lot, after all, and would likely slow the army down.

"Hey, Artie, this way!" The princess was woken from his thoughts as Alfred grabbed his hand and led him towards the gates of the residence. The brick houses of the city revealed themselves for Arthur's eyes and he felt a bit vulnerable when gazing up at the familiar yet foreign buildings without the protection of the carriage's walls.

"Oh, sweetie, I thought you'd already gone to school?" shouted the surprised voice of a woman. The two boys turned around simultaneously and found the figure of a lady standing at the church's doors. There was quite the distance between the actual building and its gates where the boys stood, so they were only able to make out a few of her features. Blonde hair held up on her head in some way and black clothing with two pieces of blue fabric that hung over her shoulders. It didn't take long till Arthur understood who she was.

"Hi, mom! We're just leaving now," Alfred shouted back and waved happily. Arthur stiffened and squeezed the other's hand in order to get his attention. He gave Alfred a meaning look that said they should leave, but the boy apparently misread it and turned back to the woman who'd now begun to walk towards them. "Oh, and this is Artie! He's my new friend!"

* * *

><p>AN

I know I promised more action in this one, but I got a bit carried away with describing stuff and I'd like to keep the word count around 3k :P Forgive me, please? *puppy eyes* I think you can all guess where they will be going in the next one xD (And if you can't... Well, then you're either really stupid or I'm the worst writer ever xD)

Anyway, three new characters (though they won't play a very significant part in this story): Angelique = Seychelles, Svea = Fem!Sweden, and Chun-Yan = Fem!China. They're probably a bit OOC, but as I said; they won't appear much, so let's look past it? :'D

Thank you so much to all who's read/alerted/faved/reviewed! It truly means a lot! And especially thanks to cigaretta! You have no idea how happy I was when I read your review! w I will reply to them when I get time, but I really need to sleep now ._.

Reviews are _much_ appreciated _(even if it's just a little one)_!


	4. All the Boys and Girls Would Laugh –

**WARNING!** (sounds serious, huh? owo)**:** There is some content that for some might be disturbing at the end of this (and I'm not talking about the horrendously long author's note). It is something close to torture, I guess, sort of... Unlike the rest of this it's not very fluffy, let's just say that. I don't know if it would count as M-rated, but I'm keeping this T for now. I think you'll realize when it's about to come, so don't like don't read! You won't miss anything too important if you skip it – promise!

* * *

><p>Arthur felt like he could strangle the boy, but of course chose against it, and rapidly began to fiddle with the hood of his cloak instead.<p>

Alfred gave the princess a weird and quizzical look once the fabric was shadowing his face, which was answered with a half-hearted glare. Arthur couldn't bring himself to be genuinely mad with the boy – he was oblivious to what trouble he'd just caused, after all.

"I see. So you're the reason Alfie has been running off to the woods lately. I'm Eleanor Frank, Alfred's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you... _Artie_, was it?" Arthur reluctantly met the mild gaze of the priest and swallowed the lump that had stuck in his throat. She was smiling and extending her hand towards him.

"Right; I'm Artie. It's a pleasure meeting you as well, Mrs Frank," the princess replied a bit too hoarsely for his own liking, shaking the hand in a not-so-confidently way, unlike what he'd been taught by Yao. Eleanor Frank hadn't changed much since Arthur last saw her, if at all. Her eyes had the same comfortably warm chocolaty colour and her hair a darker shade of blonde – much like Alfred's, the royal now concluded. The shorter of her wheat-coloured locks framed her face in a rough heart-shape while the rest was braided and put up in a knot on the back of her head. Arthur recognized the black robe as that of a priest's and knew that the cloth hanging from her shoulders came in multiple colours and was a part of the outfit – he knew this because the Royal Priest, who also ran the church of the city's western district, always wore identical clothing. Now that he thought about it, he actually didn't know why it was Mrs Frank and not Mr Thomas who'd visited them – or Aunt Liz, to be more precise – at the castle. Arthur hadn't paid it a second thought back then, but he was curious now. Mr Thomas wasn't likely busy, since the King would have been his top priority, but perhaps he'd gone somewhere like Diamonds, Clubs, or Ace? He wouldn't have visited Hearts at least, that much Arthur was certain of.

"How very polite of you, Artie," Eleanor chuckled and squeezed the royal's hand affectionately before letting go. "May I ask... how did Alfred introduce himself to you?"

"Introduce himself?" Arthur echoed uncertainly.

"Just as you told me to, Mom! 'Nice to meet ya' and all," Alfred cut in and subconsciously puffed his chest out a bit, feeling proud and wanting praise.

"Did he really now?"

"Yes, ma'am," the princess immediately replied as Eleanor looked at him for confirmation, not wanting her gaze to linger on him for longer than necessary.

"Well done, then, Alfie, I think my lessons might finally get through to you." Alfred craned into his mother's touch with a light blush as she ruffled his hair.

"Anyway, we need to get going now. I'm gonna show school to Artie."

"O-oh, you are? Don't you go to school, Artie? Is it really okay to come with Alfred today?" Eleanor once again turned to Arthur and the royal felt himself shift a little under the gaze. If she'd actually recognized him she'd said so by now, Arthur figured, so perhaps he was worrying a bit too much? Before he could answer though, an energetic yet hesitant voice spoke up.

"I-it's okay! We uh... convinced Arthur's parents that he'd get a day off! School starts soon, so we'll leave now... Bye Mom!" Alfred quickly blurted out and before Arthur could register what was happening, he was dragged out through the church's gates while watching a very bewildered woman stare after them. It had stung a little at the word 'parents', but those grief-filled thoughts immediately flew away as he saw the face Alfred was giving him. The boy had the widest and brightest grin Arthur had ever seen stretching all across his face. The sky-blue eyes were shining with a new glow Arthur had yet to see, and when the boy finally laughed, the royal couldn't help but join in. His hood had since long fallen off his head and the wind was now gently blowing through his blond locks for the second time of the day. He absolutely loved it.

They passed around a corner and Alfred finally started to slow down. Both of the boys were panting – though Alfred almost unnoticeably while Arthur quite heavily. The princess looked up to find them surrounded by the brick buildings of the city. Some of them were of a dampened red-brownish colour while others were of grey stone. Flower arrangements adorned the black balcony railings, decorating the houses with different shades of blue and purple and sometimes greens and yellows as well. Very few pink hues could be spotted, but they were still there unlike the colour red that the streets had been completely stripped of.

A few people that were out walking shot the boys curious glances and amused smiles. They were mostly adults on their way to work, but school children could also be seen, either walking to school with friends or parents. Everyone seemed relatively content and happy in the warm morning sun and the day was looking full of promise. Arthur hadn't set his expectations that high for he knew that while this outside world was tempting and inviting on the outside, it still had its darker half, which was filled with cruelties the young royal could never imagine. But now that he was surrounded by the smiling faces of the people – _his_ people, he reminded himself – all of that was forgotten and put behind the sweet curtains of this dream-like world. The fact that he would rule over all these people passing them by came as a shock to Arthur, and the fact that he'd be ruling over millions more was frightening, yet, strangely enticing. Of course he'd known about this practically ever since he was born, but being out there amongst them, walking around just like them, gave him a whole different perspective of the weight the responsibility was putting on his shoulders.

And it really scared him. He would be ruling the nation alongside a King and Jack obviously, but as of right now he felt very lonely. Yao had been Jack throughout most his aunt's rule, despite his rather youthful appearance, and would probably retire soon, Arthur had sadly concluded. There hadn't been any announcements or even recommendations for a new King either, and Arthur had only vaguely overheard the matter being discussed in the council. Since Arthur's own existence was almost completely unknown to the world there were no noble families who'd offered a first-born son or daughter either. The owners of the royal titles were usually first-born children and would preferably be so, but there were exceptions lest someone was found more suitable for the throne.

Arthur actually had older brothers. Three of them, even. They had a different father though, and were therefore not in any position to claim the throne as it was Arthur's mother who had royal heritage. Arthur had never met any of them, and he wasn't sure if they knew he even existed. He doubted it – they probably believed Arthur had died with his mother during his birth. And even if they did, they would probably just come crawling to him for power or money or something of the sort, the princess figured. If that was how it was going to be, then he'd rather not acknowledge them at all. It was better the way it was.

"So you've never been here before either?" Alfred's voice snapped him out of his train of thought.

"No, I have actually, though only vaguely," Arthur answered the other boy. He watched as Alfred seemed to ponder on something, but before he got a chance to voice his – what Arthur assumed would be – question, the young royal was quick in interrupting. "Sorry, but I couldn't help but notice... You and your mother don't share the same last name?"

He received a quizzical look.

"Yes we do," Alfred insisted.

"But I thought your name was Jones, and your mother clearly said that hers was Frank."

"Oh," Alfred's eyes lit up with understanding, "well, my name is Alfred _F._ Jones. The F is for Frank. Mom's family's been running the church for, like, thousands of years or somethin', so when she married dad she chose to keep Frank. Dad's last name is Jones. Had I been a girl I wouldn't be expected to take after dad and my name would've probably been J. Frank instead." Arthur gave a thoughtful nod, but before he'd entirely processed the new information, Alfred spoke again, "Look, Artie, there's school!"

The princess shifted his gaze from the terracotta-coloured houses to where his friend was pointing.

Arthur could see a wall of flowers rise up behind a corner – and as they got closer he was able to make out the black metal fence which was holding the floral adornment up. The slightly darker colour of several rooftops also revealed itself as well as two open gates in which children were swarming through.

"Is that the school?" Arthur asked.

"Yep, sure is," Alfred chuckled when he saw the astounded expression on his companion's face.

"It's beautiful."

"Really? I guess. I've grown quite used of seeing it. You should see the canal though! It's on the other side of school and it's real' pretty. It's full of water lilies right now, how awesome is that?"Alfred had paused just outside the gates and was pointing past it where Arthur could see a stone bridge on which flower boxes were hung, containing abnormally big, but very beautiful, bellflowers. He couldn't see the actual water, or lilies, in the duct though. "We can follow it down to the harbour after school – class'll start soon," Alfred said before tugging Arthur through the school gates. His grin was as wide as ever and he held his head up high, practically skipping forward with uneven strides. Arthur held his posture in a similar manner with a practiced strong facade, but his constantly flickering gaze betrayed his anxiety. His long and – despite his age – gracious steps became ragged and choppy when trying to keep up with his friend, so he quickly gave up on those and settled on a mixture of walking and jogging instead.

"Hey, Al, good morning!"

Alfred came to an abrupt halt which caused the unprepared royal to bump into his side slightly. He followed the leading boy's gaze as it searched over the schoolyard and settled on an energetic-looking boy.

"Oh, Michael! G'morning!" Alfred shouted in reply and started leading Arthur towards the boy. "This is Michael," he burst out once they were facing each other. "He's my very best friend here. Michael, this is Artie! He and me decided that he'd join me in school today."

'_So this is one of his friends,'_ Arthur thought to himself. He'd expected Alfred to have tons of friends – he appeared to be a very social person, after all – and he wasn't surprised that Michael was one of them. Even though it was considerably fainter, he also seemed to radiate a certain kind of warmth, but not the same freedom as Alfred. His eyes had a golden colour and their shape – that to a certain amount reminded Arthur of the Jack's – gave them an almost feline look, but they made him look more charismatic rather than hostile. Michael's hair had a golden hazel colour and was slightly curly. His fringe had all been combed up in one way in an attempt to rid it from his eyes, but most of the locks just barely failed to cover his right amber orb – the rest of his hair looked like it might have been combed even and caringly that morning only to later be ruined by the wind and movements of the young boy. His clothes had probably looked proper and prim that morning, too. The white shirt he was wearing was loosely tucked into his shorts, but tucked in all the same – besides the three of them, no one had bothered even trying dressing in a proper manner, and instead their clothes were picked to be as practical and adjusted for movement as possible.

"Hello, Artie! My name is actually Mikael, but Al and everyone else can't pronounce it properly, so feel free to call me Michael if it's easier," Mikael said with a bright smile. There was something mischievous and feline about his smile as well, but it was too playful and childish to consider unnerving.

"Ah, okay, that's a quite unusual name," Arthur said and returned the smile a little hesitantly. He didn't want to get too acquainted with anyone besides Alfred for obvious reasons; it wasn't like he was going to make a habit of sneaking out to the city.

"Yeah, my mother's family fled here from Ace during the war 100 years ago, so I'm half Aceish! Cool, eh?"

"Yeah, Michael always brags about how well he knows the language – it's of no use here, dude!" Alfred said before Arthur got the chance to open his mouth. He'd clearly felt left out from the short lack of speaking.

"Oi, that's rude," Arthur glared at his friend, who puffed out his cheeks and guiltily averted his gaze. "I think that's quite impressive. You speak Aceish?"

"Ah, yes, and it's okay; he's right after all," Mikael shrugged indifferently. "Cheng and Rick are inside, by the way. And Wei told me he was sick yesterday, so he's not coming. I'm gonna go to the classroom now, anyway. You guys coming?" The brunet boy motioned with his thumb towards a pair of wooden doors at the last sentence.

"Yeah, we're coming soon. I'm just gonna show Artie around first," Alfred said smilingly and tugged gingerly at Arthur's loose sleeve. They agreed to meet later in the classroom and Alfred started leading the royal towards a grander entrance than the doors where Mikael had entered. Some children looking about their age and others clearly taller and older were strolling around in a huge swarm, which gradually grew thinner as people disappeared through doors. "Right, so this is sorta like the main hallway, but I don't really have any lessons here. I have most of my classes in the same classroom, but stuff like B Language and Magical Practice are in other places. This hallway here-"

"Watch it, kiddo!"

Alfred let out a yelp as an older boy grabbed his shoulder and roughly shoved him out of the way, making him stumble backwards and knock an unprepared girl into the wall. The older boy did not seem to care as he uncaringly passed by, closely followed by three other boys who made bad attempts at hiding their lazy snickers. Alfred sent their backs a defiant look, but didn't speak up. Once the four boys had disappeared through a door a bit further down the corridor, Alfred let out an exasperated and irritated sigh; something that looked rather odd of him to do, Arthur thought. "You'd do better to just stay away from those guys. Don't ever go near them. They're just a bunch of idiots, anyway," Alfred said once he met his friend's puzzled and angered look. The other students walking around them seemed to just mind their own business and walked on indifferently – as did the girl Alfred had accidently bumped into.

Arthur gave him an uncertain nod and watched as his guide's face lit up slightly as they started to walk again. "Right, so this hallway is where most of the eighth graders classrooms are, I rarely go here, but the cafeteria is just a bit further down. C'mon." Alfred patted the other's shoulder twice, indicating him to follow, as he set off jogging to reach the desired room quicker. Their feet made soothing and dampened sounds as they ran on the dull stone floor and Arthur found himself meeting questioning gazes of teenagers who eyed him weirdly. He realized that he was still wearing the dark cloak from before, and even though the hood wasn't up again, he was sure he looked quite strange, if not suspicious. Arthur quickly pulled out the pin that kept the fabric around his shoulders and picked it up into his arms instead. Alfred had already stopped a bit ahead of him and was swinging back and forth on his feet while waiting impatiently.

Arthur went to his friend's side and stepped out into a bigger, and seemingly empty, room – which actually looked more like a hall – full of tables, benches and chairs. The wall on their left side was of brick like the rest of the building, but the right side was made of glass with pillars of stone that held up the roof, which was wooden, Arthur noticed. Outside, there were a bunch of children and teenagers standing on a plain of grass, observing a teacher who was gesticulating dramatically in the air.

"What are they doing out there?" Arthur asked curiously and turned to Alfred who'd followed his gaze to the small gathering.

"A Magical Practice class, dunno which level, but a lot of eights and nines are there, so it's probably pretty high," he answered thoughtfully and then turned back to Arthur again. "Do you practise magic, Artie?"

"Ah, yes, a bit. Mostly spells though, and curses when I grow older. I haven't tried combat magic," the royal said after a moment of thought.

"Wow, that's cool! I got zero magic skills, but then again, no one in my family really does. People tell me I'm as magical as a rock," Alfred laughed, the vibrant sound echoing funnily in the large cafeteria. Arthur returned the laughter with an amused smile. He'd never really valued his magical abilities that much before, mostly because he'd always taken them for granted. He knew that Angelique, for example, didn't practise magic, but for him it had still always felt like such an obvious thing. But things natural for him inside the castle weren't perhaps as usual for the people outside.

They stayed in the cafeteria for a few more brief moments and watched as the Magical Practice teacher produced a shimmering, red light out of thin air with a simple hand gesture before Alfred decided it was time to continue the tour. They went through several more hallways and Alfred pointed out the rooms for the B language rooms, music, art, and battle class. It turned out that the school was two separate buildings with one of them containing most classrooms while the other held larger spaces like the auditorium and dancing hall. They were connected by a gravel passageway framed by damp grass. Shrubbery were scattered a little all over the schoolyard and also covered most borders of the outer borders, creating neat hiding places between the bushes and floral-adorned metal fence. "We'll have good use for 'em later during break," Alfred told him.

After wandering around in a few more hallways, Alfred jumped to a halt in front of one of many wooden doors. "Right, here we are!" he exclaimed brightly and pushed open the door.

"Good morning, Alfred. I see you brought your friend?" Arthur found his gaze locked on an older woman who eyed him curiously from behind a desk. She looked to be in her thirties, had dark, curly hair that framed her face neatly and intelligent dark brown eyes.

"Good morning, Mrs Jacobson! And yep, this is Artie," Alfred exclaimed with a large grin and stepped aside to let Arthur into full view.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Mrs Jacobson, was it? Thank you for having me here today," Arthur said with a small bow and extended his hand, blushing slightly as he saw the surprised face the teacher was making. She was quick in smiling though, and returned the greeting with a firm handshake, telling him that he could take the seat next to Alfred's since his classmate was sick.

Arthur followed a beaming Alfred to two desks positioned in the very middle of the classroom. He was introduced to Richard, a brunet who claimed himself to be really good at football, and a dark-haired boy called Cheng who was sitting next to Mikael by the window – which was facing a light well, since the room wasn't connected to the building's outer walls – and was told that their first subject was math.

Alfred greeted seemingly everyone that passed through the door, making sure to introduce Arthur, even if it was just vaguely, until the lesson finally started and Mrs Jacobson greeted them all, now as a whole, and told them which pages to work with. All of the children picked up their books, pencils and erasers – and some their rulers – before pages could be heard turning in a chaotic ensemble.

Arthur settled on watching Alfred at first, quite surprised at how enthusiastically the boy was scribbling down numbers; he himself wasn't a big fan of math and he couldn't understand what it was that captivated Alfred with it. He didn't observe him for long though, for Mrs Jacobson came over and asked if he wanted to work with the same exercises as the rest of the class. Arthur didn't see why not – it sounded a lot better than just sitting there and doing nothing for a good hour – so he was lent a book, a couple of checkered papers as well as writing equipment. Mrs Jacobson asked if he knew how to work with the equations they were currently learning, and left after opening the correct page when Arthur assured he did. He was also quick in discovering that it was all stuff he'd both learnt and mastered probably more than a year ago, so he was quick in finishing and was surprised that he hadn't thought it as boring as he usually did. At first he just put down his pencil, straightened his back and waited, going back to observing the other children – though Alfred mostly – but then Mrs Jacobson's voice broke his examining trance.

"Oh, my, are you already done, Artie?" Arthur averted his gaze from the blond boy and looked up at the teacher who had once again approached him. He could feel Alfred's as well as several other's gazes landing on him, but didn't chance any glances.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered and couldn't help but feeling a bit embarrassed over the attention he was getting.

"That's quite impressive! There's still twenty minutes left, so you can continue on the next page if you'd like."

Arthur gave a subtle nod and bent over his desk again. He couldn't help a gaze at Alfred though, and was met by a beaming face with sparkling eyes and a praising thumb up. He might have imagined it, but he could have sworn Alfred scribbled even faster after that, looking even more determined to solve the equations. After a while longer, Mrs Jacobson called out that class was over and that they'd have a twenty-minute break before they'd be heading to their next lesson – which was music, so they wouldn't return directly to the same classroom.

Alfred all but attacked him with a big hug once they were out in the hallway again. "Mmmm, you're awesome, Artie! How did ya get so smart?"

"I-I'm not smart. Those were simply things I'd already learnt," Arthur answered shakily, cheeks getting uncomfortably warm from the public sign of affection – he wasn't used to getting hugs at all, even less amongst others.

"Still, you're totally awesome, not just 'cause you're good at math!" Besides intensifying his blush, the compliment made him want to laugh. Alfred truly thought too much of him; he was completely hopeless at math – and hated it, too – and he'd never thought of himself as smarter than others his age, though of course he hadn't really met that many. Because he was tutored privately he figured that it went faster and smoother than classes at the communal schools, Mr Väinämöinen had told him that he was gifted, but Arthur always took it as hollow flatter.

Arthur thanked Alfred despite his thoughts and received an encouraging pat on the back before he was released.

They had to focus on getting to the music classroom, so the break was mostly spent walking there while talking and joking with Mikael, Richard and Cheng. When they were outside the door of their destination, the conversation started to drift to Arthur though, much to said person's dismay. He'd managed to smoothly evade most questions though, and was relieved when the door finally opened and a brunet with, a bit too large, beard and heavily lined spectacles appeared. He motioned the waiting children inside and the lecture started.

They would be working with instruments for the day's lesson and Alfred was quick in grabbing something the young royal had learnt was a guitar – they didn't actually have any at the castle since it was relatively newly invented and not in tradition, but he'd still heard of it – and Arthur received a violin from the teacher, which he'd said he played earlier when the question was asked during his short introduction to the musician. Personally, Arthur thought that his friend was quite gifted with the foreign instrument and he listened mesmerized as he played for the first whole quarter of the class. Alfred told him he was going to make an original song and was currently trying to find a good comp and just played random chords for the time being, Arthur recognized the terms from the fewer piano lessons he'd been given and didn't question it further, instead he just leaned forward to absorb the melodious and rhythmic sounds.

Alfred was soon embarrassed by the intense attention, however, and asked Arthur to let him hear him play instead. "I tried to learn the violin at first, but it didn't really work out," he said with a chuckle.

Snapping out of his momentary trance, the princess obliged and picked up the forgotten instrument, placing it in the correct position beneath his chin. He drew the bow over the strings a few times first, testing the sound, before starting on a piece he'd memorized from his lessons. Arthur usually preferred to keep his eyes closed when he was confident he knew a piece enough in order to get entirely swallowed by the melody and simplify the flow of feeling he put into the playing, but about halfway in he chanced a glance at his audience and was met by a similarly beaming face he'd been earlier during the previous class. Arthur also realised that Alfred wasn't the only one observing – or rather admiring – his playing, seeing that as good as the entire class was staring at him now. Arthur tried not to swallow too noticeably because of the discomfort it would cause and shyly shut his eyes again. He finished with a vibrato on the last high-pitched note which he mentally praised himself for pulling off rather impressively – he'd been having trouble with it a lot in the past and rarely managed it on too long tones.

He was met by applauds and a couple of cheers once he opened his eyes again and lowered the violin. His face was burning, he knew, and uncomfortably impressively so. The praise he got after that was in a disturbingly large amount that ended up with the teacher asking him a bunch of questions about how long he'd played, who'd taught him, and so on. The future Queen of Spades was left with a relieved, yet warm and proud, feeling in his chest as he walked out of the classroom at the lesson's end, accompanied by a very gleeful Alfred.

* * *

><p>Arthur proved to excel in the rest of the subjects as well – he'd since long passed his record in blushing for one day, and not even half had passed yet – and was more than embarrassed when lunch break had finally arrived. Lunch was served with a small buffet of two main courses to choose from, one being very spicy while the other was close to completely bland – but that was what the others told him, the princess himself didn't find anything wrong with the latter dish –, as well as a salad table. Alfred told him that if they hurried with eating they'd have more time for playing a game later – the schoolyard wasn't really big enough for any sports since most space was occupied by Magical Practice classes, so they only did those after school if their parents and homework allowed.<p>

Arthur found it hard eating quickly though, for Cheng and Alfred kept cracking jokes, leaving all five at the table in laughter. They still finished at a relatively good time though and went over to the other side of the school where a lot of shrubbery were seemingly randomly placed.

"We usually start here," Alfred said and looked around, searching for more children that usually joined the activity. "Do ya know how to play the Wave Game, Artie?"

Arthur gave him a confused look and shook his head.

"Right, how about hide n' seek?"

"Yes, I know that one," Arthur said and followed as the other three boys went over to a small group of children.

"Well, it's sorta like hide n' seek; someone will be 'it', count to fifty and everyone will run and hide. When 'it' finds someone they will follow 'it' when 'it' continues to search though, so a line behind 'it' might be created. Now, everyone who's still hiding must try to wave to those who are found without being seen by 'it'. If someone from the line sees a wave they wave back and then they run and hide again, so it's good to move and follow 'it' if they walk around the school instead of staying put."

"Ah, I see," Arthur said with a nod. "That must be quite frustrating though."

"What do ya mean?"

"With everyone running away all the time."

Alfred chuckled lightly. "You bet it is! We usually have to change 'it' after a while when they complain too much."

"Hey, you guys gonna join?" a tall brunette shouted from where she sat on a large boulder. There were five additional girls as well as three more boys in the group, the brunette seemingly taking on some kind of 'leader' role.

"Yep! Wei's sick, but I brought Artie here with me today, so we're the same number. Artie, this is Mel, she can be a bit bossy, but she's still cool."

The girl pouted as she jumped down from the rock, punching Alfred playfully on the shoulder before turning to Arthur. "I'm Melanie, but Mel is fine, too. Nice to meet you. Oh, and if Alfred's told you something about me, don't believe it, 'kay?" she said before squinting, focusing her gaze on Arthur's face, unnerving said boy. "Your eyebrows are funny!" she exclaimed at last, as if she'd made a huge discovery.

Arthur only sighed, exasperated, by the remark – what was it with girls commenting on his eyebrows? – Alfred, on the other hand, returned the previously thrown punch slightly harder and with a frown. "They're not funny – they're _awesome_. You're just jealous!"

Melanie stuck her tongue out in an immature manner, but didn't retort.

They'd already decided on a girl called Charlotte being "it", so they were able to start the game quickly. Charlotte stood and faced the boulder, hands preventing her from peeking out of the corners of her eyes, before starting to count loudly.

Arthur didn't even have time to scan his surroundings for a hiding place before he was suddenly pulled into a sprint by Alfred who'd grabbed around his wrist. The boy seemed to realize that the grip was uncomfortable for the princess, however, for he let go to take his hand instead.

The only thing Arthur could indistinctly make out from the run was that they were heading for the fence and his assumptions were indeed confirmed when Alfred turned them both around and pulled him with him behind the bushes. Arthur let out a high-pitched yelp as he was brought down on his bum, but was silenced by a warm hand that closed over his mouth. He turned around to glare confusedly at Alfred and was met by a mischievous smirk covered by an index finger, indicating the other to be quiet. "Hush, she might hear us," Alfred whispered with a wink and Arthur nodded.

The wheat-blonde retrieved his other hand and put it snugly around the royal's stomach instead, pulling him closer. "You need to pull your legs further in; your feet are still poking out in the sunlight."

Arthur let out an agreeing "hmm" and obliged, pulling his legs up as far as he could to his chest.

It was an exhilarating feeling, hiding like that, and the fact that he shouldn't be there in the first place only added to fuelling it. His heart was beating at a frantic, but strangely pleasant, pace, and he was surprised to feel Alfred's beating just as fast; he did that kind of stuff practically every day, didn't he?

Arthur felt a sudden blow of warm air on his neck as Alfred sighed and leaned forward to put his chin on his shoulder. "_Man_, isn't she done yet? Fifty seconds passed, like, ages ago," he whined and Arthur chuckled quietly.

The princess tried to lean forward in order to catch a glimpse of "it's" whereabouts, but Alfred only tightened his grip – this time adding a second arm – around him. "Don't! She'll see you!" he whispered.

"Right, sorry," Arthur whispered back and settled against the other again.

They sat like that for a while, hearts beating rapidly and Arthur hardly dared to breathe, but then they heard a call from somewhere to their left.

"I can see you, Ju – behind the corner!"

Arthur saw two feet come into view under the leaves as Charlotte ran along the school's wall and an additional pair soon came and met them.

"Ah, she's found Ju," Alfred breathed. "Let's stay here for a while longer though, till they've walked around the corner or so, 'kay?"

Arthur nodded and they went back to waiting in silence again, occasionally hearing other's names as well as their hiding places being called out by a girlish voice.

"Where did ya learn all that stuff, by the way?" Alfred finally whispered when he couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"What... What do you mean?" Arthur murmured back hesitantly.

"Well, you know a lot more than any of us. Like, all those cities you just counted up, it was like you knew them all by heart – I swear I've never even heard of half of them. Wellington for example, _where's that?_"

"Just along our south-western border," Arthur breathed, even though the question wasn't directly related to him, the course of topic was uncomfortable. "I just read a lot that's all."

"Yeah, but-"

"I think she went around the corner now, shall we follow?" He could feel Alfred's reluctance, but the boy still rose to his feet and pulled Arthur with him.

"Yeah, let's," he said and they stepped out of the bushes, leaving the comfortable hiding place. "C'mon!" Alfred was smiling again and motioned with his hand for Arthur to follow him to the school wall. Alfred said that they had to be quiet as they sneaked closer to the corner. He tried to listen for sounds that would reveal the whereabouts of Charlotte, how far away she was and how many she'd found. He wasn't able to make out any distinct sounds amongst all subtle noises that flew around the school though, so he decided on peeking around the corner of the building instead.

He didn't see her at first, but by the time he heard an "Aha! You there!" it was already too late and he swiftly retreated back around the wall.

"Go, go, go!" he exclaimed and quickly ushered Arthur with him into another run. They didn't escape to the bushes along the fence this time though, instead kept running along the wall.

Alfred pushed Arthur in front of him and around the next corner just in time to hear a victorious shout. "Found you, Alfred!"

Said boy sighed loudly but smiled, still. "Hurry and go before she comes!" he whispered hastily to Arthur and winked. "Someone's gotta save us, right?"

Arthur snorted despite the subtle burning feeling on his cheeks and nodded, turning around to continue his run along the building's wall until he found a fit hiding place. The wall turned inwards rather quickly, revealing a small courtyard between the backsides of the auditorium, dancing hall and corridor that connected them. Arthur ran into the open square but didn't dare to look back around the corner in case Charlotte had followed and would spot him, so he began to look around.

There wasn't really much there; a few flowerbeds and bushes only. A tunnel-like passage that he figured must lead to the other side of the halls was the only thing sticking out. Seeing that he really didn't have many options, he threw one glance back before sprinting for the passage.

He almost instantly bumped into something though, letting out a surprised cry and stumbling backwards before he thankfully gained his balance again. There wasn't that much light in the passage, save for the one at the end of the tunnel, so he found it difficult making out the silhouette of the blocking object. Something smelt really weird though – that he knew.

"Hey, kid, watch it!"

'_Okay'_, Arthur thought,_ 'so it is an angry and very-much-alive blocking object.'_

Arthur squinted and was able to make out enough features to recognize the guy that earlier had shoved Alfred into the wall. He suddenly felt very unsure as he saw the other three boys that had accompanied him before as well, leaning against the walls of the tunnel while watching him with questioning and hostile eyes.

Arthur decided on trying to just ignore them and began to walk again as indifferently as possible. The first boy – and obviously the leader of the pathetic squad – grabbed him by the collar though, and shoved him against the bricks of the wall. Arthur let out a grunt at the sudden assault but managed to keep his head from impacting with the building behind him.

"Ye were with Jones before, eh? I don't like that kid, cheeky and spoilt little brat who thinks lives on his dad's fame," the leader spat with spite in his eyes. "Yer probably the same, cocky little annoying bastard, aren't ye?"

Arthur gulped rather audibly as the guy leaned over so that they were at eye-level. He was now able to trace to odd smell to a piece of what looked like paper the older guy held in his hand, it was reeking at one end and the smoke found its way to Arthur's eyes, making them water.

"Li, stand guard," the guy commanded and one of the other boys immediately ran off to the other tunnel's end, still watching his leader's actions.

The royal tried to squirm a little against the tight hold beneath his throat, grabbing the assaulting arm with his hands, but found it to no avail as the boy was more than a head taller and far physically bigger and stronger.

Now he was truly scared.

Instead of looking brighter like it should've, the shadows of the tunnel just appeared to crawl closer, enclose everything in further darkness. He could hear mocking snickers from the three-member-audience and the stench from whatever their leader was smoking was making him choke.

"Let go," Arthur finally managed despite his fear and thanked his many lessons of vocal training for keeping it resolute.

The guy in front of him chuckled at that, a disgustingly hoarse and sickening sound Arthur thought, especially as the stench of his breath was blown all over his face. "Why would I do that? I'm bored and yer entertainin' enough."

Arthur whimpered as he was pulled forward only to be knocked back against the wall again. This time he couldn't keep his head from colliding with the bricks and let out a cry of pain as it connected unmercifully with the stone.

"See?" said that hoarse voice and equally disturbing snickers echoed from behind it again.

Whether it was out of an adrenaline kick or subconsciously planned attack, he really didn't know – all he knew was that his legs were kicking out at full force the next moment, colliding with his assaulter's leg and stomach vigorously.

The older boy cried out and let go of his collar, taking a couple of steps back and falling to his knees, clutching his belly. Arthur immediately jumped for the opportunity and tried to run, making a frantic leap towards the end from which he had come. Something grabbed around his ankle though, successfully stopping him abruptly and sending him crashing to the ground with a shrill cry. His hands had shot out at the last moment and took the damage instead of his face, getting scratched roughly as he was pulled back over the cold ground by his ankle.

He was turned around before he was straddled by the older boy, who was looking infuriated now, eyes ablaze with rage.

"YE FUCKIN' BRAT!"

Arthur flinched as the guy bellowed straight in his face, letting out a scared whimper. The three boys who still stood and watched were howling with laughter now, not helping with easing the royal's horror.

He wasn't sure whether to be surprised or just thoroughly panic-stricken when he was grabbed around the throat, his vital air support efficiently cut off.

"Stan, what the fuck are you doing!"

The laughing squad had quietened down and was now panicking just as much as the choking boy.

Arthur didn't know what happened around him but the hands around his throat were finally removed, so he could've cared less, busy gasping for air like a fish was for water after being without it. The weight keeping him trapped on the ground never left though, and as his blurry, tear-filled vision finally sharpened, he saw that his assaulter – Stan – was still straddling him. Even though he looked a tad less angry than before, his face was still scrunched up in rage. Now he also held a newly lit smoke, which was still burning faintly at one end, emitting that horrible-smelling smoke.

"Right, so me mates and I decided we could do this in a funnier way, ye'd like that, huh? Ye fuckin' little brat." Stan glared and sneered down at him at the same time and Arthur started to cold sweat, panic returning again.

Stan grabbed both of Arthur's wrists and successfully pinned them above his head, leaning forward with the smoke close to his face. "I fuckin' hate ye," he spat in the royal's face and slowly blew out a breath of smoke for added effect. "Ten minutes and I already hate ye!"

Arthur noticed that the previously amused trio now had turned silent and was watching the scene with nervous expressions, shifting where they stood as if thinking that the assault had gone a little too far, as if wanting to intervene but not daring to. That didn't calm him one bit.

He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before – but then again, he actually hadn't managed to think much at all in the last ten minutes, his mind being a frightened mess – but now he finally took a deep breath and screamed, not very high-pitched and desperately but rather powerfully and demanding, as if ordering someone to help him or his assaulter to get off him.

Stan looked surprised at first – maybe shocked, even – but was quick in regaining his senses and thrust a hand over the princess' mouth. "_Shut the fuck up!_"he growled.

Then a smirk was on his face again, more taunting than the previous ones, and Arthur wasn't quite sure what to think. Had he missed something?

The royal's next painful scream was muffled by the palm that still covered his mouth, but now that his hands were free he clawed desperately with them at the older boy's arms, digging his nails extra hard into the hand that was by his neck again, instantly regretting it though, as the hand pressed harder. He wasn't choked again, but he honestly thought that the feeling of being strangled was more welcome at that moment, anything but the unbearable, agonizing, _burning_ pain at his throat as the still smouldering end of the smoke was pressed further into his pale skin. Even though he couldn't bring himself to blink, his eyes being wide-open with a horrendous mixture of emotions, tears were flooding down his face, and obviously had for some time now.

As suddenly as it was applied, the cause of the burning sensation was gone, leaving a very stinging, but still painful, feeling on his throat instead. He wanted desperately to claw on it, to cover it with something, add some kind of pressure on it, but Stan still held the smoke near his neck, so he dared not to move.

Arthur sent a pleading gaze down the tunnel, hoping to gain some of the other boys' sympathy that could make them stand up for their own opinions and turn on their leader, but the tunnel was void. They'd probably left before or while he was being burned, deserting him. Not that he'd counted on their assistance in the first place, but it still stung somewhat, and not from the burn on his neck or the large weight that was applied to his body. Arthur sobbed quietly, the sound almost completely mute under his assaulter's palm.

"This is so much more fun, don't ye think?"

There was that spiteful voice again, and Arthur wished he would never have to hear it again, ever.

"But do ye know what'd be even more fun?"

Arthur sent him a glare and started to squirm again, though subtly as to not accidently brush his skin against the smoke again.

"This."

Stan now held the smoke over his face, lowering it slowly, oh so slowly, for added effect. As realization dawned upon him, Arthur let out a muffled scream and clutched the other's hand desperately with his own, but Stan was strong and even if the pace was slowed down, the slightly glowing smoke was still getting closer and closer to Arthur's face.

* * *

><p>AN

Oh God... I'm a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE person! ._. I can't believe I just wrote that, it went from completely fluffy and child-friendly story to... ehhh, _that_... I wasn't planning on making it that violent at first, really! My first idea was to just have some mean comments and Arthur being pushed to the ground, but no. Writing late at night and trying to exaggerate everything so that you won't fall asleep is no good way of writing... I know some people will hate me, and I honestly don't blame you. I did write that it wouldn't stay fluffy forever, but for a scene like that to come so early surprised me as well ._. I must say, that I do like it now because it contrasts to the rest of it, but I will probably hate it tomorrow when I wake up :P Wouldn't surprise me if it does... Anyway, was that bad enough for an M rating _(I sure hope not!)_? For now I'll keep it T with that warning in the beginning, but it really wasn't that horrible, right? I'm not very easily affected myself, so I'm a terrible judge when it comes to ratings, so please share your thoughts on the matter! It would truly help! ;^;

Now... ehm... This chapter is _really_ long, but I also haven't updated it for a while so that sort of compensates for that I suppose? I haven't been able to reply anything yet because I was really badly ill with different viruses for two weeks and then had to catch up with school (most of this is written in a notebook), and I haven't been much on my computer (only _reading_ fanfics on my ipod) before today when all I did was finishing this... *sigh*It's so late (or early o.o) that my eyes are burning xD I will reply to reviews tomorrow though, I promise! Absolutely promise this time! I really, really appreciate your reviews and this story wouldn't be alive without them ;w; So thank you _soooooo_ much and please keep 'em coming :'3

_**Alsoooooooo**_, I just realized that I have yet to mention that English isn't my first language in this story (though you've probably noticed by now, huh? xD). Anyway, I'm still learning it and am relatively young (as much as I hate to admit it), so constructive feedback and corrections on grammar are very much appreciated! (Really couldn't thank you enough for this!)

(You don't actually need to read all this since it is mostly me ranting, but I've got some information of the actual story coming here)

So first of all; **Mikael** (yes, he is an oc who is not based on a nation – none of the oc's in this are!)**:** The reason why I decided to "waste" time describing him is because he'll return later in the stories and I want him better introduced before that happens (don't worry he won't take much place).

**Religion** (you: gawd nooo!)**;** so the religion of those church is not really Christianity (even though they're called churches). It will not be largely in focus at all, I just needed a few things explained for later in the story. The little religion you will see will be loosely based on Protestantism (a form of Christianity) because I am such myself and have more knowledge about it – so basically I'm just being lazy in doing research and inventing a perfect religion for this setting /shot. :'D (No need to pay this much attention, really! xD)

**Languages and Ace: **So making it easier for myself again (because I'm both incredibly tired and lazy right now), the language in Ace will be Swedish with the Danish "Ø's". Ace will pretty much exist of most countries that are not part of the official cardverse theme, with the nordics as majors. I am also currently learning French and German, so French in diamonds and German in Hearts in order to at least somewhat avoid entirely wrong grammar if I choose to use them. As for Clubs... I'd like for it to be Russian, but I don't know any so ol' google translate will deal with that when time comes xD

**B Language = Foreign language **

I'll explain about the Magical Practice and different styles in another chapter.

Okay, terribly long AN for terribly long chapter ._. ah well. Thank you so much to everyone who's still sticking with this, and reviews are much appreciated! :3


	5. – I Felt the Warmth and Felt Its Glow

As scared as he was, Arthur was surprised to realize that his most dominant emotion was not fear – it was rage. He had never felt such hate towards a person before – who did he think he was, hurting someone like that? Who'd given him the permission to go around insulting people, injuring them? Arthur was boiling with a mixture of horror and fury, channelling the strong emotions into his arms and hands, adding to what little strength he had.

He could see Stan struggle above him just as much as he did, but unfortunately didn't find any comfort in it – he could only force a limited amount of air through his nose and the lack of oxygen was starting to make his head spin. The thought of trying to bite into the palm constricting him was tempting, but he quickly chose against it as any movement from his head would be too risky, not that just lying there and doing nothing wasn't.

Arthur's breath hitched as Stan gave an extra forceful thrust with his hand, the smoke now not more than a couple of centimetres away and still moving. Arthur's arms were shaking with effort, but he was determined not to give up – how could he?

It was then that it came, that innocently beautiful, now angelic voice.

"Artie? Artie! _ARTHUR!_"

Stan's head snapped up in surprise and confusion, and his face just had time to turn into an expression of rage before Alfred tackled into his side, efficiently pushing him off the princess.

Arthur immediately sat up, hands shaking from exhaustion and eyes frantically flicking over to his friend who was – making a good attempt at – wrestling with the older boy on the ground. The princess' vision was still blurry from tears, but he couldn't bring himself to force his hands up to his eyes, instead just sat there in shock, trying to focus on the bundle of dark colours whirling around in front of him.

He could hear them both grunt and colourful curses flew by his ears occasionally, all coming from a hoarse voice, Arthur faintly noted. For some reason all emotion felt drained from his body and all he could do was sit there and stare unfocused, not once did the thought of rushing to his friend's aid or even run away occur to him.

"C'mon, Arthur!"

Without his eyes registering it, he was forcefully yanked up on his feet by his wrist and Alfred set them off in a run. Now when running with full force, the differences between the two boys' speed became embarrassingly evident. Arthur struggled to keep an even pace with Alfred, but mostly just stumbled when the other kept pulling his arm – with body following – forward.

None of them looked back to check if the older boy was pursuing them, instead just ran around the corner of the building before Alfred leapt towards the open area where they'd previously started the game, the plain of grass now seemingly empty.

"Michael, get a teacher! _Now!_" Alfred shouted as the brunet boy came into view from behind a piece of shrubbery.

Mikael looked bewildered and shocked at the scene that came sprinting towards him, halting in his hunt for a new hiding place to stare at them with an almost comical expression.

"W-what happened? Al, Artie, are you alright?"

"Just get a teacher!"

The brunet nodded quickly before setting off back to the school in haste.

When confirming that the other was obeying, Alfred finally stopped and looked back.

Nobody was there, Stan hadn't followed them. He sighed with relief before eyeing his friend, worried.

The wheat-haired boy was panting rather heavily himself but it was nothing compared to Arthur, he had bent over and was considering just collapsing onto the ground. The cold, damp grass suddenly felt temptingly welcoming, Arthur couldn't help but think as he leaned over a little further.

Alfred robbed him of the option, however, as he was grabbed by the shoulders and forced to meet the other's concerned, azure gaze.

"Arthur, Arthur, oh God, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't know he'd be- I-I swear I didn't," Alfred looked lost as he let out a miserable groan, "r-really. Please, Arthur, forgive me! I-I really wouldn't have... I _shouldn't_ have left you! Oh, I'm so sorry, Arthur!"

Tears had started creeping down Alfred's cheeks and his face was faintly flushed – anyone passing would probably have mistaken him for the victim instead of the now relatively composed boy he was clinging to. He kept Arthur's gaze for a moment longer before vaguely turning down his head as if in shame.

"I-it's alright, Alfred. It wasn't your fault!" Arthur tried, desperately wanting the other boy to stop crying and smile like he used to. It was genuinely painful watching him in that state, especially as he was used to Alfred being almost constantly happy.

Arthur's own emotions felt locked away, as if they were thrown inside a box that Arthur no longer had access to, leaving his expression rather indifferent as the other boy kept clinging to him. He felt emotionally exhausted and Alfred's small panicked rant was not helping.

"No! No, no, no, no, _no!_ It is not okay! Did he hurt you anywhere? What'd he do to you, Arthur?"

The tears had stopped now, the sad eyes replaced by a determined and somewhat protective look. Arthur couldn't help but gulp, squirming slightly as the grip on his shoulders tightened.

"A-ah, he-"

Arthur was cut off by the footsteps of four feet nearing them, a female voice quickly following.

"Alfred, Artie, what happened?" Mrs Jacobson called out, rushing to their side and kneeling down so that she could look them in the eyes.

"It was Stan again!" Alfred quickly blurted. "Please, I know we have no proof, but he really did it this time! I swear!"

Mrs. Jacobson looked exasperated as she eyed the two boys with apologetic eyes. Mikael stood behind her and looked equally sad, fidgeting nervously and making eye contact with Alfred, both sharing previous encounters with said bully.

With the mood being tense and with the anxious gazes shared among the three others, it didn't take long before things clicked in Arthur's head.

"A-actually," he said and lifted his chin, loosening his collar to reveal the abused neck. Besides the red and slightly black mark, his whole throat was tinted in a blue-lilac hue, some marks still slightly visible from the calloused fingers that had strangled him. I didn't hurt like it had before, but an itchy feeling was starting to emit from the burn and his neck ached vaguely when he turned his head, not to mention the pounding that had begun in his head – how come he hadn't noticed it before, he wondered.

"O-oh God," Mrs Jacobson stammered and leaned in closer to inspect the damage, a hand covering her mouth and eyes going impossibly wide. "Did Stan do this to you, Artie?"

"Y-yes," Arthur answered, about to nod but catching himself as his neck gave a painful throb.

"We must get you to a doctor right away. Do you have any family nearby that we can contact?" she asked, and Arthur shook his head. The closest thing he had to family at the moment was Yao, and he didn't even dare to think of what the Jack would do when he saw the bruise and found out about his trip, because he surely would, Arthur thought with horror, careful with not letting the feelings reach his face though. Mrs. Jacobson furrowed her brows a bit, but if anything only looked sympathetic. "I have class starting now, but I'll make sure to tell the other teachers about Stan, so don't worry about him. Alfred, I'll give you the rest of the day off, can you get Artie to Dr. Evans?"

Alfred nodded curtly before taking Arthur's hand and starting to lead him away towards the school gates, avoiding the royal's gaze.

"Where are we going?" Arthur asked as Alfred turned right outside the school grounds, heading towards the stone bridge.

"Dr. Evans' house is on just the other side of the canal," Alfred explained in a surprisingly monotone voice, picking up the pace suddenly, making Arthur trail behind and unable to look at his friend's face.

Just before they walked onto the bridge, however, Alfred took a right turn again, dragging Arthur with him down a set of steps that led down into the canal. Arthur was surprised at first to say the least, thinking that Alfred was heading for the water, but was relieved to find that they walked down onto a narrow pavement, made by the same grey stone as the bridge and canal edges. The water of the duct was barely a decimetre from the pavement's edge and probably flooded it in rainy periods, Arthur guessed. What really caught his attention though, were all the water lilies grazing the water's surface. The flowers were of amazing colours, blue, pink, bright gold, violet and pure white, all melding together in a forest of shades. Arthur was too entranced by this sight – wondering why he hadn't looked down in the canal before – to notice that Alfred was leading them under the bridge, pulling away the draping of greenery that hung from the flower boxes so that they could enter the shadowed room – the bridge was rather low so both boys were also forced to hunch down, this was what snapped Arthur's attention back again.

"Erm, Alfred? What are we doing here?"

Instead of a verbal answer, Alfred turned around and hugged the other closely, clutching at his back almost desperately.

"A-Alfred?" Arthur asked hesitantly, confused and slightly flustered about the situation.

Alfred pulled back, revealing the pained expression he was sporting. Arthur only met him with a bewildered and questioning gaze, feeling concerned about his odd behaviour. "You have no idea how sorry I am, Arthur, really... I-it's all my fault for bringing you to school in the first place, I shouldn't have pushed you to do it." A short moment of silence passed and Arthur felt his eyes starting to water, not only from the aching pain and stinging that was growing more and more apparent as the seconds passed but also because of the confusion and pained expression Alfred was making – he really didn't have anything to feel guilty for, Arthur thought. He wanted to tell Alfred that, too, but the words caught in his throat along with a painful lump. Was it really that hard to understand?

"D-does it hurt?" the wheat-blond finally asked as a tear finally crept down Arthur's cheek.

"A-a bit... b-but it's-" Arthur's eyes widened as Alfred leaned in closer again, placing one hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder, kissing the burn mark tenderly.

Arthur froze on the spot, stiffening and not quite progressing what the other was doing. If he was confused before he was completely lost now.

"D-does it hurt anywhere else? Other than your throat that is." Alfred's voice came as he nuzzled the other's neck carefully.

"W-w-what? T-the back of my head, a bit... b-but-" A few gentle strokes were added to said place before Alfred pushed him down further by the shoulder and tilted his head forward, giving another soft kiss to the princess' scalp. Arthur flinched slightly as the movement of his head caused his throat to ache again, earning an apology from the other and two small pecks placed on the purple-ish skin.

"W-what are you doing, Alfred?" Arthur finally asked and the other pulled away with a sad smile, cheeks lightly flushed.

"Mom always does this when I'm hurt somewhere – makes it feel better," Alfred explained, stroking the other's blond strands again. "Did it work?"

Arthur blinked a few times, still confused. He'd been a little too shocked to feel soothed by the other's actions, but he supposed it had felt nice.

"Y-yes," he said, and Alfred finally smiled vibrantly again, leaning forward for another hug, this time having it returned.

"I swear I'm never gonna do anything that might hurt you again, and I won't force you into anything! I promise! Pinkie swear?"

Arthur only smiled and extended his finger, hoping that he'd never have to see the other pained again.

* * *

><p>"See! Nothing to worry 'bout! I'd only notice if I squinted," Alfred assured him as he pulled up Arthur's collar a little further, not enough to make it uncomfortable for the boy, but still enough to cover most of the abused throat.<p>

"Ah, good. Thank you," Arthur answered and smiled in gratitude.

Dr. Evans had looked shocked when the two boys came in, but told Arthur that it didn't seem to be any too serious damage, only that it might hurt for some time more and that he'd recover just fine. His throat was still in one piece and new skin would replace the burnt one – he did clean the burn from the blackened edges and gave Arthur a herb that he said would numb the pain though. He'd also offered to contact Arthur's parents, but the royal had politely declined, thus making Alfred worried again.

He'd been questioned a bit about his family after they'd left Dr. Evans and Arthur had tried to avoid saying as much as possible, answering most of the questions with 'probably', 'kind of', 'perhaps' and other futile replies. Alfred hadn't stopped eyeing him anxiously though, but didn't have any time to voice his thoughts before Arthur remark on stares he got from passing people who gawked at his neck.

"No prob', so do ya wanna go to the docks now or shall we do somethin' else first?"

"Either is fine. You decide," Arthur said and Alfred nodded, pointing down the canal.

"To the harbour it is, then!" he smiled and motioned Arthur with him. They walked in silence and Arthur took the opportunity to enjoy the animated city, fresh air and all together just lovely day. The incident with Stan felt so far away it was almost like if it never happened. It felt more like a bad dream, a terrible nightmare, than something that happened just an hour ago, and even though it might be from the trauma that the event brought, he couldn't bring himself to care anymore – or didn't want to care, more precisely – he'd rather just forget it ever happened.

Despite the bitter taste, the herb actually appeared to be working and Arthur contently tilted his head to his shoulders, satisfied by the soft cracking noises that followed. "Doesn't it hurt?" he heard Alfred asking, and chuckled at the other's questioning look.

"Just a tiny bit. I think the herb really worked," he smiled back and was awarded with a radiant grin.

"That's great!" Alfred said and grabbed around his arm, placing a discrete peck on the side of Arthur's throat before pulling away and settling on holding his hand. Arthur blushed a little but didn't think much of it; he was mostly embarrassed of the public signs of affection, which he was definitely not used to – whether what Alfred did was normal or not, he had no clue. His aunt had kissed his forehead and held his hand, but he'd never gotten more than tiny scratches, so he didn't know what you did when someone was really hurt other than treat the wound.

"Do you do this with everyone?" Arthur found himself asking after they'd walked a bit.

"What do ya mean?" Alfred smiled back at him. There wasn't any trace left by the tears now and he looked as happy as ever, much to Arthur's relief.

"Do you always kiss people when they're hurt?"

"A-ah, well," he said with a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing beautifully red. Arthur tilted his head to the side questioningly, and Alfred quickly averted his gaze, using his other hand to scratch at his neck nervously. "S-see? There're the docks, right there!"

The royal turned his eyes away from his friend to inspect the road ahead of them and there was indeed the harbour. "C-c'mon," Alfred said and pulled him into a jog.

* * *

><p>He could stay there forever, Arthur thought contently. Sitting there on a crate, leaning forward with his face resting in his palms, feeling the warm sun heating his back while watching the beautiful colours of the ocean, sky, buildings, ships, and the boy before him.<p>

He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt more at peace.

"It's nice here, isn't it?" Alfred said from where he was lying on a bundle of net, practising knots with a sturdy rope that had lain abandoned on the docks.

Arthur hummed in reply, eyeing the other's hand movements lazily. He almost felt like sleeping and could feel his eyes starting to close.

Alfred had introduced him to some of the men working there, but most were busy and just had time for a brief greeting before they needed to rush on. The two boys had only walked around a small part of the docks, for the entire harbour stretched an entire kilometre along the city's edge, and they had settled on a sitting by a large stock of crates and fishing gear, Alfred knew the person who owned the equipment and boat that lied nearby, and had been told that it was okay for them to stay there. It was almost like the eye of the storm with all the people swarming around them and their small spot being completely calm and haven-like.

A soft tune filled the air, which Arthur knew was his friend humming, and he opened one eye briefly to confirm his belief.

"What tune?"

Alfred looked up at him and continued humming for a bit, swaying his head. "That song I'm working on in music class. I'm tryin' to figure out how to continue it."

The boy picked up the humming, then, drawing out the same tunes a couple of times before falling silent, a frown on his face. The silence just lingered for a couple of seconds however, before Arthur picked up the end of the melody, adding a couple of new notes where the other left off.

Alfred looked up at him in surprise before smiling, and he too gradually started humming the new addition to the melody. It was a rather melancholic sound, but still very soothing – nothing too fast or rushed. It was almost like the ocean, the notes rolling on in gentle wave motions, calming both of them.

"Artie, let's go home to me so I can fetch my guitar!"

"Pardon?" Arthur was woken from the blissful dream-state and looked down at the other boy who was now beaming at him.

"Ah, sorry, can you please help me finish the song?" Alfred asked a bit apologetically.

"O-oh, I suppose. I don't think I'd be of much help though."

"What? You're of great help already! Please, Artie, come with me home?"

Arthur almost answered the affirmative without thinking. As tempting as the offer sounded, they were bound to run into Eleanor again, which sounded a bit too risky. Sure, they might meet on their way back home, but entering their house was pushing the luck. Then of course, he wasn't sure if she'd even recognise him. _Why couldn't he just decide?_ The thoughts were swarming in Arthur's head and he almost forgot to respond.

"I-I appreciate your offer, but my head aches a bit, so I'd rather just relax here for a while longer – if it's okay, that is!"

Alfred looked genuinely sad at first, but smiled quickly. "It's totally okay, Artie! I can run back and get it myself and bring it here... Maybe you could sleep or take a walk meanwhile? Hopefully the sea'll make your head better!"

Arthur nodded appreciatively and received a kiss on the forehead before Alfred left with a wave. The princess found himself fingering at the tingling spot on his temple after the other had disappeared from sight. It felt a bit weird, but Alfred was only trying to be nice, he assumed.

For a while Arthur just sat there, eyes closed while listening to the chaotic yet relaxing sound of the harbour. Once he got bored he decided to get up and wander, Alfred would take some time, after all. The royal made sure to not get in the men's and few women's way as they ran around with crates, fishing gear, cargo, and almost anything that could go on the ships. There were mostly smaller boats used for things like fishing, transportation or just simple enjoyment, but the few grander ships that had arrived at the port were what truly peeked Arthur's interest. Even without the massive, white sails hoisted, the ships looked majestic. All of them appeared quite worn, which spoke of the many voyages they'd made. Alfred had been excited while chattering away about the ships, pointing out the differences between the models, usage and owners. He seemed to know everyone at the harbour, and was rather well-known himself as many had shot him greetings or acknowledging gazes when they'd strolled around before.

Imagining Alfred aboard one of those ships was easy, the bright boy would without doubt blend in with the excited crew, putting all his spirit to work and eagerly help out with the tasks. However, imagining Alfred as the captain of one of those huge ships was a completely different matter. Imagining Alfred grown up was hard enough, and seeing that man in a naval uniform, barking out orders to an obedient crew – the image didn't fit together in Arthur's head. Would Alfred still have that friendly and warm personality, would he still smile that radiant smile? Would his face stay childishly innocent, slightly round around the edges, and glow in the sun? Would he still care for Arthur?

The last was most unlikely, Arthur thought bitterly. Even if they against all odds were able to stay friends, his sixteenth birthday would ruin it all. Alfred would see him on the throne and he would leave him. What reasons did he have to stay? If he wanted fame and wealth, yes, then he would probably do just that, but something told Arthur that Alfred wasn't that kind of person – he couldn't imagine the boy being sly and greedy; it just didn't fit with his character. And if he would turn out to be, Arthur wouldn't want anything to do with him. It was better with no friendship at all than a false one.

Feeling that his previously content mood now was ruined by bitter thoughts, Arthur slowly turned around and dragged his feet back through the crowd. He was surprised to see that Alfred had already returned and was sitting down on a crate, picking the strings of a worn guitar.

"How're you feelin'?" he asked as he caught sight of the other boy.

Arthur blinked a bit at first before remembering what Alfred meant. "Better, thank you."

Alfred smiled as he sat down on a crate next to him. "Do you remember what you were humming before?" he asked.

Arthur nodded and continued the melody from earlier, watching Alfred with astonishment as he started fiddling with the strings of the instrument, producing sounds not unlike the ones he was humming. They sat there for a while, neither of them sure just how long, but they'd since long stopped working on Alfred's song and were now singing and playing random tunes. Arthur was praised for his song by both Alfred and passersby, making him embarrassed again. Several people who had free time had also stopped by and joined them – all of them already knowing Alfred and greeting Arthur with a charismatic and cheerful accent. One of them even had an own guitar with him, playing along with Alfred and adding a few animated riffs and comps to apply character to the songs. By the time the sun had started to set a whole crowd was gathered by the crates, a third and fourth musician playing exotic drums and harmonica joining the two guitars. Singing could be heard from a hundred metre radius, and curious people both from within the city and nearby houses came by to watch and listen in on the song.

"What time is it?" Arthur suddenly asked as the last line of lyrics was sung out and people cheered and whooped while waiting for the next melody to play.

"Huh?" Alfred turned to look at him unintelligently between rounds of laughter.

"What time is it, Alfred?" Arthur asked again, this time a little more insistently.

The wheat-blond nudged the other guitar player who sat next to him carefully on the shoulder before echoing Arthur's question. The man shifted a little and brought up a pocket watch. "It'll be seven o'clock in ten."

Arthur's eyes widened and he tugged at Alfred's sleeve harshly, panic-struck. He was first met by an oblivious look before Alfred seemed to understand and looked equally alarmed. "Sorry, Dave, we gotta go!"

The man nodded and put away his pocket watch, watching with amused eyes as the two boys fumbled to get through the jolly crowd. With the guitar in his arms, Alfred ran at the same pace as Arthur, both struggling to get up the uphill cobblestone street.

"Sorry, I didn't know it was this late!" Alfred panted as they crossed the stone bridge.

"I-it's not... your fault," Arthur managed to breathe in response, not sure if it was audible enough for the other to hear. He had slowed his pace considerably and was mostly dragging his feet in a jog. The small headache was starting to return and he could feel subtle throbs from his complaining neck again.

"C'mon, Artie! It's not that far left!" exclaimed Alfred encouragingly, grabbing Arthur's hand for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, dragging him along while making sure to not scrape the guitar into the ground.

As they finally reached the church, Alfred quickly leaned the instrument against the low stone wall just inside the gates before quickly leading the way to a hidden path into the woods in which they'd come from earlier.

The sun was already dangerously low on the sky, bathing everything in fire, and it was hard to see the path ahead of them as they proceeded through the labyrinth of vegetation. Alfred seemed to know the way fairly well though, and swiftly avoided collision with any trees and branches that blocked their path, dragging Arthur closely behind him so that the other wouldn't face another fate.

As they reached the wall, Alfred quickly helped Arthur climb up. The royal turned back and forced a smile in between his rapid panting, saying a hurried 'good bye'.

Alfred was probably equally as flushed as Arthur, but the warm colours of the sunset made it hard to tell, his panting had calmed a bit though. "Good bye, Artie," he said and stood on his toes to place a quick kiss to the other's forehead. "Hope you'll feel better tomorrow," he mumbled a bit sadly after pulling away.

Arthur nodded and with a 'thank you' jumped down on the other side of the wall, beginning a very forced jog.

Most of the servants probably dined at the time, he figured, so it should be considerably easy to slip back up to his room. He looked around quickly before running through the Queen's Garden and slipped into the castle through a door as quietly as he could muster.

Had someone come to check on him when he didn't turn up for dinner? He sure hoped not. That thought almost made him halt and turn back in fear of the consequences when the Jack found out, but then he was reminded of the bruise around his neck and figured that that confrontation would be inevitable anyway.

As he scaled the steps of the Grand Staircase he couldn't help but notice that his cloak was gone. When had he lost it? He couldn't remember and didn't care at the moment. He hadn't bumped into anyone yet and silently prayed that it would remain that way. The Queen's Quarters were now in sight, but his hopeful mood instantly fell as he saw that the door was ajar.

The young royal gulped and walked towards his chambers a little more hesitantly, listening for the slightest of sounds that would emit. He peeked carefully into the first room, making sure to not touch the door, and was both surprised and relieved to find that no one was there. Perhaps he'd just forgotten to close the door when he left?

He now dared walk inside, but still did so cautiously. There were two doors, one to his left and one to his right, both of them also ajar – it didn't bother him as much though, since they usually stood open.

He took the left one first and stepped into his private library. After inspecting it quickly and confirming that no one was or had been there, he turned back to head for his bedchamber, stopping right in his tracks, however, as he found a person staring at him from the doorframe.

Arthur stood frozen to the ground and stared back with wide eyes, currently feeling more shocked than scared. "H-hello," he finally mustered, and the person in front of him just kept staring back, expression remaining indifferent.

* * *

><p>AN

So much for a fast update, huh? ._. Sorry about that, I fell ill _again_ and school decided to be really mean, so I didn't have much time for writing at all. Most of this is done on my iPod, and there might be mistakes (I'll check tomorrow, and maybe change a little of the phrasing as well – need to sleep). Sorry for not replying some of your messages yet, I'll hopefully get to it tomorrow, but I'm not ignoring you or anything! Simply had another couple of rough weeks again ._.

Anyway, I said in some chapters back that I'd try to keep the word count around 3k, well, let's forget I ever said that, okay? I really can't squeeze much into just 3k, so the length will probably vary a little from each chapter :P

Finally, thank you _soooo_ much for all the reviews I got on the last chapter! They were so fun to read and really encouraged me to write (even through illness)! w And thank you guys for all the alerts and faves, as well!

Last AN was far too long to be legal so I'll stop talking here and hope to somewhat compensate for it xD

Reviews are much appreciated!


	6. Held In A Dreaming State

"I-it's not… It's not what it looks like," Arthur tried weakly, but the supposed to be convincing statement came out more like a hesitant question.

Svea had been the one to check on him in the morning, and apparently also the one who was sent after him when he didn't turn up for dinner.

She continued to eye him indifferently, her icy gaze never wavering. It usually didn't unnerve Arthur as he had known the woman through most of his childhood, but right then he almost squirmed where he stood – his guilty consciousness being the blame.

"Feeling better, your highness?" Was it Arthur's imagination, or did her voice sound colder than usual?

The young royal only nodded shallowly and straightened his stance in an attempt to regain a dignified posture. As much as he'd liked to give a well-composed reply, the words tauntingly choked in his throat and dehydrated his mouth.

"What were you doing in the Holy Woods, your highness?"

"T-the woods?"

"Yes, I believe you came out of them, your highness."

"Why aren't you calling me Arthur like you always do?"

"What were you doing in the Holy Woods, Arthur?"

The princess let out a groan of defeat and turned away his head again. He'd never had any reason for feeling guilty before (the only "bad" things he'd ever done was breaking an occasional flower vase or china) and he found the new feeling most uncomfortable. "I-I just needed to get away for a bit; Tino's been pushing me very hard with the studying lately... and I just needed a break," Arthur said and chanced a quick glance the maid's way. He immediately regretted it however, when he was met by a seemingly even harder stare. He inwardly flinched when the next question came,

"What is that on your neck, Arthur?"

* * *

><p>"Please don't say anything to Yao! I swear I won't do anything risky again, so just... please!" Arthur begged, only barley keeping himself positioned in an armchair in his library – if the royal had any less dignity to uphold he'd probably be kneeling on the floor in front of the other woman. He'd told Svea about meeting Alfred by the wall, and briefly his trip into the city, leaving out most of the gruesome and more private details. The maid had remained silent throughout his entire story, making Arthur nervous and trail off more than once. Her expression had also remained indifferent, so he couldn't tell whether she was mad or upset with him. She seemed to have taken it rather well, however, considering that it must have been quite a surprise despite her suspicion during the day.<p>

"I won't say anything, provided that you stop with your... escapades – you do realise how dangerous that was, right? And what if your identity leaked? Can you really trust that boy?" Arthur felt himself shrinking back into his armchair by every word Svea said. She usually didn't speak much, and when she did it was never about anything intimate or personal. Now that she was finally talking, Arthur wished she would rather stop.

"But the Jack will see the bruises on your neck," she continued, "and probably punish the boy, as well as yourself, for your actions. It's inevitable, really, but if his highness does not wish of me to talk I shall remain silent." She finished completely monotonously and with a weak nod. The maid sat in the navy armchair across from Arthur, feeling concerned for the boy, but unable to let her emotions show – Arthur often wondered if she'd experienced something that made her that apathetic or if it simply was in her character.

The princess' eyes widened and he swallowed in distress. He'd seen it coming, of course, but having someone actually say it made it feel so much worse. "T-the doctor said that it would fade eventually, don't you think I could perhaps... I don't know, hide it or something?"

Svea seemed to contemplate the suggestion a bit and stared off into a wall. "Well," she started, "I don't recall you possessing any garments with high enough collars, and I don't know how appropriate it'd be for you, but scarves are getting into fashion."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur said and blinked. '_Scarves?'_

* * *

><p>Arthur really tried to not let the heavy silence affect him, but the tense atmosphere around the dining table was becoming hard to ignore. Even though he'd rather not, Arthur figured that he better show up for breakfast the next morning, but the moment Yao's eyes landed on him he immediately regretted it. The Jack didn't have work until unusually late that morning and was able to join the princess for a common breakfast. His eyes had been scrutinizing Arthur the whole time now however, digging into the cloth that was loosely wrapped around his neck. He hadn't commented on it though, instead greeting Arthur in the usual sophisticated and polite way before taking a seat.<p>

It was through half of the meal that Yao finally broke the silence, albeit a little hesitantly. "What is that around your neck, your highness?"

Arthur was slightly startled by the sudden sound and shifted a little self-consciously while the question was spoken.

"A scarf."

"Yes, I can see that. But _why_ are you wearing a scarf?"

Arthur decided to try and act casual about it – the bigger deal he'd make the more attention it'd draw from the Jack – so he shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant gesture.

"I still feel a bit cold from yesterday, plus I heard from the maids that it was in fashion," said he clearly and took a generous bite of his meal. He had his head slightly tipped forward so that his bangs prevented the Jack from making eye contact. Arthur, however, was glancing nervously at Yao through the blond fringe.

"I see..." Yao said, looking utterly confused and anticipating a further explanation from the boy. As none came he settled back in his chair and gave an inaudible sigh, trying to make sense of why Arthur would prioritise _fashion_ of all things. No one outside of the castle was to see him anyway, so what difference did it make?

The rest of the breakfast was shared in silence, and Arthur hurried afterwards to meet up with Tino in the usual study room.

"Good morning, Arthur! Are you feeling better today?" Tino asked as they settled by the oak desk. Arthur nodded the affirmative and opened his textbook where they last laid off. "Lovely scarf you got there, by the way."

"Thank you," Arthur replied a bit shyly, starting to feel unsure about the additional cloth. He was accustomed to the flatter as he was often showered with compliments from the court, but he'd never grown entirely used to it.

"I guess it's appropriate now considering the weather. I should have picked some warmer clothing myself," Tino said and made a meaning nod toward the window. Arthur's gaze followed to the display of rustling trees outside. The weather was growing worse.

The lectures went on as usual till the late afternoon when Arthur was finally dismissed and went back to his chambers to retrieve a cloak. It The wind had continued to grow over the day and dark clouds could be seen coming rolling from the horizon – a rather stormy night was to be expected.

Arthur swiftly made is way down to the bottom floor of the castle but was stopped by Svea as he was about to exit through the Queen's Garden. She told him that he shouldn't go and meet Alfred, considering the princess' own safety as well as Alfred's. Arthur was quick in telling her that it wasn't Alfred he was meeting, that it was just one of his usual trips to the woods. All of the maids knew about the princess' attachment to the woods, so she didn't question him further and let him leap. Something in the back of Arthur's mind told him that she was right though, that he'd known so all along, but he persistently locked that thought away in a distant corner of his mind, not wanting to be reminded of it again.

He hadn't really talked to Alfred about meeting that day – Alfred might think he was lying in bed with a headache – but Arthur wanted to check anyway.

Even though the trees of the Holy Woods gave some protection from the worsening weather, the wind still somehow managed to sneak in between the vegetation. Arthur shuddered and slowed his pace even though it would do him better to accelerate. He rubbed his pale hands together furiously in an attempt to warm them up. In the end Arthur found himself coming to a complete halt and raised his arms in front of him. He began to make fluid motions with his hands while muttering foreign words under his breath. Not too long ago he'd come across a book in his library with elemental magic and found a relatively easy spell to create a barrier against wind. The weather had been unusually calm since then though, so even though he memorized it he hadn't had any opportunity to try it yet. He continued to move his hands in dispersive motions and could feel the wind gradually weakening around him. Feeling satisfied, Arthur gave a proud grin before continuing forward – arms now down by his sides again, but his hands continuing to make circular movements.

He didn't come across any creatures during his walk, making him disappointed albeit not surprised – they'd probably run off to take cover somewhere, he figured. The wall finally came into Arthur's view and he couldn't help but smile when he saw a small and shivering figure curled up on it.

"Alfred?" Arthur called out, and the boy looked up with flushed cheeks.

"Hey, Artie!" he exclaimed. "Are you feeling better?" The young royal nodded and, after a second of struggle, settled next to Alfred on the wall.

"Are you cold?" Arthur asked while examining the other's huddled up figure.

"Yeah, dude, of course I am!" Alfred said and shivered to strengthen his statement. "Why, you're not?"

The princess shook his head. "I made a wind barrier," Arthur said proudly. "I only learned it a short while ago, but it works quite well."

"Wow, really?" Alfred shifted and leaned forward so that he was on all four, head and shoulders peeking inside the barrier. The boy's face immediately lit up as he felt the warmth inside the protective bubble. Alfred scooted in even closer, pulling a surprised Arthur into a hug so that the princess was all but completely in his lap.

"W-what are you doing?" Arthur spluttered, trying to focus on maintaining his hand motions.

"I'm not spoiled, but it's totally unfair that I should have to freeze just 'cause I suck at magic!"

"I could just try to make the barrier wider though."

"Nah, you're warm, too, so it's nicer this way," Alfred said and nuzzled into his shoulder, frowning slightly. "What are you wearing?" He asked and pulled back a bit to inspect the fabric he'd found around the other's neck. He drew apart the coat that had hidden it before slightly.

"It's a scarf – to cover my throat," Arthur explained as Alfred continued to eye the plaid black and white fabric curiously.

"It suits you," Alfred concluded and snuggled up against the other again, a content sigh escaping him at the warmth. "It doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

"No, it's all right now." It was partially a lie, because sure, it was okay and didn't really bother him, but there still was a persistent, albeit faint, aching that wouldn't go away.

"Good... that's good," Alfred said, still sounding unsure, and nodded slightly (more to convince himself rather than Arthur).

They sat there together, vaguely swaying back and forth, until Alfred deemed himself warm enough and pulled back a bit. A casual one-sided conversation about said boy's school day started, and the two of them were soon huddled up next to each other, facing Arthur's side of the woods. A lost fairy flew around, completely disorientated, trying to find some shelter. Arthur watched her with mild concern, trying to focus on Alfred at the same time. She stopped flying and ran around through the jungle of grass and roots instead, the wind making it impossible for her to take flight again. Arthur pondered whether to get up and help her or not; he felt bad for her, but could also imagine Alfred's reaction when seeing his friend jump down and talk to the ground. He grimaced, but just then the fairy found a shelter between two sturdy roots, making him relax. Alfred was sitting, still oblivious, at his side, talking like nothing had happened.

"We should totally meet tomorrow too! It might rain a bit but with your bubble-thingy it should be okay, right? If you want to, that is...! Artie? Hey, Artie!"

"Y-yes? What is it?" Arthur asked when snapping out of his momentary trance, he'd blocked out most of the other's speech a while ago, unintentionally or not.

"Do ya wanna meet here tomorrow, too?"

"Oh... yes, sure."

"Great! 'Cause I need to go home now, but I'll see you tomorrow, then!" Alfred grinned and jumped down on his side of the wall, reluctantly letting out a squeak as the cold air hit him. "God, it's _cold_!

Arthur chuckled at him and watched as he frantically began to rub his arms, desperate for the warm friction. "I shall see you tomorrow, then," Arthur smiled down at him.

* * *

><p>The storm did indeed strike at night. The rain was stabbing at the windowpane of Arthur's bedchamber, keeping him awake. He'd never minded rain before, thinking it was soothing and refreshing, but he felt exhausted from the lack of sleep and use of magic, wanting nothing more than to simply drift off into cascades of dreams or uneventful sleep. Even nightmares would do, Arthur thought exasperatedly.<p>

It seemed as if the weather outside only worsened, for the hammering of raindrops grew louder and louder, making the room feel colder. The splattering grew stronger, rapidly increasing in quantity, and almost appeared to grow closer, nearing and splashing over the floor and navy carpet. Arthur didn't open his eyes until he felt something cold and hard graze his cheek. He let out a gasp and jumped up from underneath his covers as a second raindrop smashed into the back of his head, the surprisingly large amount of water seeping through his golden locks. The princess shivered at the cold feeling and shielded his eyes as more drops came down harshly upon him. Looking up from the floor, Arthur found himself gazing out into an endless pallet of blue; gloomy and navy colours rolling towards him, aligning themselves with a shade dark as ink in the sky.

Panicked cries echoed from behind him and Arthur spun around. I took a while for him to register what he saw.

Men were running around, shouting at each other as they struggled to stay on their feet when running over slippery wooden boards. The rain kept smashing down on them, showing no mercy on the exhausted crew.

The ground tipped over and Arthur grasped onto the wooden railing behind him, just as a massive wave of salty water came crashing down on him. With wet hands he desperately tried to get the water out of his stinging eyes, groaning when failing miserably.

He was on a ship, he'd concluded with great surprise. He was on a ship that was trapped in the middle of a storm.

The ship began tilting again, this time the other way, and Arthur clasped onto the soaked railing once more. He watched with terrified eyes as another huge wave came rolling towards the ship, pulling them into its deadly embrace.

"Arthur!" a voice echoed through the wind. Arthur heard it clearly despite the roaring sounds around him. It was as if everything became blurry, everything except for that voice... and the man who was on the other side of the deck.

Arthur inspected the man swiftly and froze on the spot when he'd registered his features. He was a young adult, or perhaps teenager – it was hard to tell since the man was hunched over – with the same mop of unruly, now drenched, blond hair, prominent eyebrows and – if his sight did not betray him – emerald eyes, as Arthur himself. Arthur also realized that the man even mimicked his stance. They were creating perfect mirror images, save for the age and clothing – what on _earth_ was the other wearing? Arthur thought with stunned amusement – staring at each other with the same shocked expression.

"Arthur! Arthur, hold on!"

A second man quickly ran over to the older Arthur, tall and blond, or maybe light brunet, from what the young royal could tell. The other Arthur said something to the man, and was given some panicked reply before being lifted off the ground by the other. Arthur held eye-contact with his older counterpart as he was carried down into what Arthur knew had to be the captain's cabin, shouting obscenities that would have made anyone cringe.

Suddenly, the rain stopped, froze in mid-air. Everything around him – the people, ship, ocean, weather – froze, and Arthur could only stare as it all started to reverse. The rain ascended back up into the sky, the men started moving backwards, and his doppelganger was carried out through the door again. Everything began to reverse faster, accelerating in speed until Arthur found himself surrounded by an incomprehensible blur. Colours of different shades and hues passed him by; dull blue ones with hints of earthy colours, then an intense variation of reds and oranges, blocked out by some black, and then everything faded to complete darkness before the crimson and scarlet continued. Everything spun and, if possible, seemed to reverse even faster. Arthur only had time to catch glimpses of colours before it all suddenly became black again.

He was standing upright, but that was about as much as he could comprehend. The floor seemed solid, but he couldn't see any shadows, though he could see himself clear as day. The walls, provided there were any, were just as black as the ground, revealing nothing of his possible surroundings.

Arthur felt a wave of panic wash over him, and he franticly spun around, looking for any kind of light, or just hint of colour, in the darkness. As none presented itself, he leapt off, not caring whether the ground below him was solid or would crumble under his next step. This time, running didn't give him that free and wonderful feeling. There was no wind either. No matter how fast he ran, there was no wind blowing through his hair, nothing fanning or cooling him. It was out of sheer panic that his legs moved, out of panic and fear. No sound except for his own panting and wet feet, continuously hitting the ground, could be heard. He didn't keep track of time, but it felt as if he had run for hours. The panic hadn't disappeared though, instead, it was joined by a great confusion. He couldn't remember where he'd been before being swallowed by the darkness, only that he'd at some point lain in his bed, perfectly safe.

That was when he saw it, the silhouette of something. He didn't have any idea of what it might be, but it was still _something_, and therefore a huge relief.

As he came closer, the silhouette gained more structure, and Arthur eventually found himself running towards a gate. It was made of dark wood, wasn't very big, and adorned with different engravings. Flourish patterns intertwined with each other in crisscross ways all over the doors. In the upper half of the left door was a diamond carved, and a spade on its lower. The right door had a heart instead of the diamond and a clover where the spade was positioned on the other door. Other than those four symbols the doors were completely symmetrical.

When Arthur finally reached them, he just stood there and panted, staring at the doors with a mix of accomplishment and confusion. Where were the handles? He couldn't find anything among the curly patterns that looked like a doorknob, handle or anything that could be used to open the gate.

Arthur hesitantly walked around the doors, feeling the panic returning again. There was nothing there. Nothing at all – only darkness. He turned back around to inspect the back of the gates, to see if there were any handles on that side – not that it really would matter anyway. But the gates were gone. Everything was black again.

With the panic returning, now with full force, Arthur skipped back a few steps. The gates reappeared, completely out of nowhere.

The young royal stared at it with big eyes, not sure what to think anymore. He took an experimental step forward, and the doors disappeared again. They didn't fade or go up in smoke or anything, just disappeared. One moment they were there and when he blinked they were gone.

He walked back, and the gates did indeed reappear.

Stepping sideways, he raised his fist uncertainly before knocking weakly on the right-hand door. Nothing happened, and Arthur wondered if he'd really expected anything to.

He knocked again, harder this time, and as nothing happened he banged his fist against the wood in agitation, not caring that it hurt when his knuckles made contact with the uneven surface.

He wasn't sure why he was even knocking in the first place – it wasn't as if the doors led anywhere – but it was still _something_, not darkness, and Arthur utterly refused to wander out into the black again.

Giving in to the pain, Arthur stopped his futile attempts at knocking and fell down on his knees. He didn't know when he'd started sobbing, but tears were now streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks. He was lost, scared, and awfully confused. What made matters even worse was that he couldn't remember anything. He'd lain in a warm and comfortable bed, but save for that he didn't have any memory of anything but the endless abyss. He wasn't even sure of is name, he only knew he had one.

Soft noises suddenly erupted from the door, and Arthur's breath hitched, a thick feeling sticking in his throat. The sounds grew gradually louder until it sounded as if it came directly from the other side of the gate. A shape in the doors abruptly began to glow. Arthur hadn't noticed that part of the engravings before, but it looked like a cross, split in two by the twin doors. Some creaking sounds could be heard before the door swung open, making Arthur jump back in surprise.

A boy about Arthur's age poked outside, a cloak with hood concealing most of his blond hair and the rest of his attire. His eyes scared Arthur. They were almost as dark as the abyss, a rich tint of navy blue the only thing proving them to be solid and not bottomless holes.

Arthur tried to speak, to formulate a greeting or question, but he choked and was at a complete loss. The boy didn't seem to be very keen on speaking either. He remained silent and observed the Arthur for a short while before starting to search for something under his cloak. Arthur flinched as a key was suddenly presented in front of him. It looked rather simple, made entirely of some shiny metal and hung in a rough leather strap. The boy shook his hand a little, making the key bounce up and down. Arthur gave him a confused look and the boy then leaned forward, taking one his hands and laying the key down in his palm. The boy curled Arthur's fingers inwards so that he had a secure grip of the object, before stepping back inside the door. He put his index-finger in front of his lips and blew out a quiet "hush" which somehow grew stronger as it came blowing towards Arthur. The young royal was taken by surprise and let out a gasp as he was hit by a powerful wind that threw him backwards. He half expected to hit the dark ground, but instead kept falling and watched as the boy closed the gates above him. He could only let out a silent scream as reality hit him and panic struck just as hard.

The fall didn't last long though, for his back quickly made compact with something soft. Arthur bounced off the smooth material and fell down onto cold ground again, letting out a pained grunt but managing to keep his head from compacting with the floor. He was back in his room and the rain was still hammering outside, now also with a few occasional flashes of lightning followed by accompanying sounds.

The princess looked up in confusion. He'd landed on the cold stone floor next to his bed where the carpet had, unfortunately, slipped away. With some effort he rose to his feet. His side ached a bit from the impact and the bouncing had done nothing good to his neck. He couldn't help but wonder if it had been just a dream and that he'd simply fallen out of bed, it all seemed very surreal after all, but then he became aware of the cold object he still clutched in his right hand. The image of the silent boy indicating him to be quiet filled his mind, making Arthur wonder whether he was a real person or not. He sat down on the bed's ledge for a while, thinking. He was tired and couldn't remember much except for the darkness and the gates with the boy.

And the key, of course.

Arthur played with the piece of metal with his hand before putting it on his bedside table. What it was didn't matter at the moment – he just needed to sleep. So Arthur crept down underneath his duvet again, vaguely wondering why his hair felt damp, but soon drifting off to a sound sleep.

* * *

><p>In some incredible and miraculous way, Arthur had managed to convince the Jack into letting him go outside the next day. "But only for an hour – <em>at most<em>!" he'd been told. Even though the storm had struck during the night, the weather seemed to have cleared considerably. It was still raining though. Darker clouds were once again rolling towards them so it was only a matter of a couple of hours before the thunder would start again. Arthur would make sure to be back before that, for both his and Alfred's safety.

Yao had insisted that he'd put on some suitable clothes, which in this case meant several layers of heavy fabric. Adding to Arthur's horror over the outfit was the fact that most of the garments – even those hidden from sight – were quite showy and _screamed_ novelty, if not even royalty. Arthur therefore hid all this under one of the dark cloaks he'd grown fond of over the last few days. Thinking about it, Arthur realised he must have lost the cloak he'd worn into town at the school... not that it mattered though; he had plenty of them in his wardrobe.

He'd hidden the key in his library, behind a book with fairytales where he was sure no one would look. He just wanted to forget about it at the moment; he had other things on his mind.

As Arthur entered the woods, he somehow couldn't bring himself to create a shield for the falling water, exhaustion taking over him even out there in the rain. Luckily for him, he was still quite fond of rain, so the water didn't bug him all too much. What did bug him though, was the thought of not having anyone waiting for him on the wall. What guarantee did he have that Alfred would show up in this weather? Maybe the storm meant that their meeting was called off? Arthur didn't know. He didn't have any experience with this at all; Alfred was his first real friend after all. So when Arthur arrived to an entirely silent and empty wall, his heart sank immensely. There was no radiant boy on it, no one waiting for him.

Arthur climbed the slippery rocks anyway. Albeit solemnly.

He started freezing after awhile, but decided that it didn't matter. Alfred had waited for him despite the cold wind after all.

How long had he sat there? It felt like hours. But then again, it wasn't like he had the funniest occupation to pass the time with. There were no magical creatures outside, so there was no company. All Arthur did was sit there and quietly hum some melodies stuck in his head, shuddering from time to time. It was starting to get really cold, but he still felt too weak to create some protection from the weather. Why had he grown so weak all of sudden? It didn't make much sense.

By the time a person arrived he was too deep in thought to take notice of their presence.

"Hello there, Art," came a warm whisper at his ear, sending quick shivers down his spine.

Arthur didn't have any time to turn around to identify the voice, for he jumped high into the air as a pair of hands came down on his shoulders. Letting out a startled cry, he only barely managed to clutch onto the wall before falling down into the gathering mud and puddles.

"Y-you stupid git! I could've died!" He shouted at the grinning boy, surprising himself at his choice of words.

Alfred only laughed at him.

"No you couldn't! Dude, you should see your face right now!"

"I-it's not funny! Stop laughing you stupid-!" Arthur quickly wiped away a few escaping tears and tried to compose himself, taking a deep breath. "Anyway, do not startle me like that! Couldn't you greet me in a normal way?"

"Aww, but it's so much more fun this way!" Alfred chuckled and helped him into a sitting position. "Hey, did you wait long? You look absolutely soaked!" he said and ruffled Arthur's drenched hair.

"No, it's okay. I've been through worse." That was a lie. If you didn't count bathing, of course, which Arthur in this case did. No need to upset Alfred – he worried too much already.

"Oh, okay. I usually don't head out in this kinda weather, so I think it's pretty bad," Alfred said with a sad smile. "Hold on, I have an idea."

Arthur watched with curious eyes as his friend removed the heavy and warm cloak he was wearing. The fabric was luxurious and the garment well sewn with complicated patterns embroidered on the sleeves and collar – it was too big for Alfred, but such a garment was hardly tailored to fit little boys. Since Alfred's mother was a priest, Arthur supposed he was privileged with at least a few luxuries. And he really did deserve them, Arthur added as an afterthought.

"Here we go! Nice, right?"

Alfred had scooted closer to Arthur and draped his over-sized cloak over them both. Arthur smiled shyly. "So, ya done anything fun since yesterday?"

* * *

><p><em>'I still haven't told anyone about the key,' <em>Arthur thought that night at the dinner table. _'Should I? It doesn't seem that important... And Yao would probably think I've gone mad... Have I? Maybe I've been mad all along, and that's why no one else sees my friends. Should I dare tell Yao? We cannot have a mad reign, what would happen to Spades then? But what would happen to me…? I know what they do to madmen and...'_ Arthur gulped visibly. He'd lost his appetite, but the Jack didn't seem to notice._ 'Maybe I should just let it be... I'll tell if it happens again, but if it doesn't I'll just stay quiet. There is no need to tell. No one has to know.'_

And it didn't happen again. Weeks and months passed, but except for an occasional nightmare, Arthur had nothing but pleasant dreams. He kept meeting Alfred at a daily basis despite the weather (they took turns in bringing cloaks or capes when it rained, if Arthur was too tired to put up a barrier). Alfred never brought Arthur with him into town again – or brought up the topic, for that matter – but the princess himself kept making carriage trips down to the harbour, and if lucky caught peeks of Alfred helping out. What also started coming at a daily basis were hugs. Over the months, Arthur noticed that Alfred had grown clingier. At first it was only when the weather was bad and during the winter, when Alfred complained about the cold and used it as an excuse, but when spring came and the air heated up, the boy still insisted on nuzzling him at any opportunity given. Arthur wasn't really sure of what to think of it at first; he just went along with it and let himself be hugged. Considering how nonchalant Alfred was about it, it was probably normal, Arthur thought. And it felt rather nice as well, so why not?

Winter passed without much notice, and so did spring. Summer was something they both tried to savour – with Alfred being on summer holidays and able to see Arthur every day – but nothing can last forever and before they both knew it, the colours had started to change and leaves began to fall.

They'd already known each other for more than a year when the first small break of the blissful pattern came.

"You never told me why you were crying for back then."

"Huh, what?" Alfred had once again begun talking on a random subject, which, as usual, Arthur didn't understand the concept of.

"Back when we met. It was kinda strange, and you were crying."

"Yeah..."

A short silence settled as Alfred waited for a continuation of the confirming response. Arthur, however, did not know he was expecting one.

"So why? Why were ya crying?"

"No particular reason."

"Oh c'mon, there must have been something. You were _crying!_"

"Not really, I just felt... unusually sad."

"Did you have a fight with your parents?"

"What? No–"

"Was it 'cause of something embarrassing?"

"No, Alfred! It wasn't like that–"

"_Then why won't you tell me?_"

The last question came out more like a bark than an inquiry. There was something close to feral in Alfred's expression – some kind of frustration, desperation, knitted together in his facial muscles.

Arthur visibly flinched at the sudden outburst, and Alfred quickly caught himself at the other's reaction.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shout like that. I-it's just… it's been on my mind for a while now and… R-really, I'm sorry, Arthur! I-I won't ask stuff like that, really, I won't push you or anything. Okay?" Alfred had started to panic, desperately clutching at the princess' shoulder while trying to make eye contact with his shocked friend.

"No... It's quite all right... Everyone gets mad sometimes," Arthur said timidly and tried a weak smile. Alfred's sudden change of character had taken him a bit aback, but maybe he'd simply been spoiled with Alfred's happy behaviour before. Alfred had always made a fuzz over his well-being, but snapping was new. It did get Arthur wondering whether Alfred acted as himself when around him though. But then again, it was first now, after a whole year, that he'd seen a different side of the boy, so maybe this was just an unusual outburst? Everyone had them, Alfred being no exception. Thinking about it only made Arthur more anxious, so he looked up for a distraction and met Alfred's remorseful gaze. Arthur was once again embraced and listened to the soft words spoken in his ear,

"I'm truly sorry."

That was the first time Arthur had seen his friend like that, but it would be far from the last.

* * *

><p>AN

I am soooooooooooo sorry for the late update! I've had tons of stuff to do these past months, but summer holidays are just in a couple of weeks now, so I'll probably have more time for writing then.

And I am going to continue "The Atlantic Mansion" for those who have asked. I never intend to leave a story unfinished, so I'll update it soon, I think.

Anyway, thank you so much for all the reviews, favs, alerts, and so on. I really means a lot! And I'm sorry for not having had the time to reply anything, I'll get to it soon, promise!

Oh, and I noticed a lot of mistakes in the previous chapter that I might edit someday, hopefully…

I'm in quite a hurry right now so I'll end the A/N here.

Reviews are much appreciated!


	7. The Screams All Sound the Same

Arthur hadn't realised it before, but he'd grown slightly taller than Alfred. It wasn't by much and it wasn't noticable when they were sitting on the wall, but when they were standing on equal ground it became quite clear. Supposedly, it was his legs that had grown most.

They were currently standing on Alfred's side of the wall, kicking a ball that the boy had brought, against it.

"I haven't always been taller than you, right?" the royal asked after a moment of pondering.

"What? No. You're shorter than me," Alfred said incredulously and picked up the leather ball. He walked over to Arthur to check, his eyes widening slightly when he realised that they weren't at the same eye level. "Huh, that's weird."

"So I am taller than you," Arthur stated smugly. Alfred frowned.

"No, you're not. Look," he said and pointed to a cowlick that stuck up a few good centimetres over his head, "still taller!"

"That doesn't count!" Arthur said with a huff of frustration. He reached over and grabbed the lock of hair, persistently trying to smooth it down on Alfred's head. I didn't work though, for as soon as he let go of it, it sprung straight up again.

"'Course it does!"

Arthur pouted. "I've still grown, though…" he added rather sourly.

"Yeah, when did that happen – over night?"

"Of course not. My tutor told me that my body's going to change now. That I'm going to grow into a man."

Alfred looked at him disbelievingly. "No way. You're too young for that. I mean… we are the same age, right?"

"Thirteen?"

"Thirteen."

"So?"

"So you can't grow up without me! That's so unfair... But since we are the same age that must apply to me too, right? I'm gonna turn into a man, too?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

"That's awesome! But I thought I had to be older for that. Sixteen is the official age, right?"

Arthur stiffened a little. "Yes, it's sixteen."

"Well, that's not too far away! Three years should pass fast enough, right? I didn't think we were gonna grow much 'til four- or fifteen, though," Alfred said with a smile and put the ball down onto the ground again. He began doing tricks with it absentmindedly while Arthur stood frozen at the spot.

It wouldn't take long? It was three years. Three _whole_ years. That was a long time, right? There was plenty of time in three years – plenty of time for training, education, and mental preparation.

Plenty of time for becoming a Queen.

Arthur's lectures had already grown more intense, and since they still hadn't found a suitable King, he was also forced to take classes in not only magic, but also battle preparations, strategies, and theory, as well. He'd told Alfred that he'd been taking extra classes and that was why they couldn't meet up for as long as usual. Nowadays he was occupied most part of the afternoon and evening, save for a couple of hours.

His fencing lessons had become more intense as well, with not only technique, but also physical training that left Arthur sweaty and spent. Now that his body was changing it was the perfect time for training, he'd been told. He hadn't had hardly any stamina before though, so he dreaded the workouts. Alfred asked him on several occasions about the bruises that seemed to repeatedly cover his face and arms, but Arthur simply shrugged it off, blaming it on clumsiness and carelessness. Alfred always looked upset despite the reassurances, but he hadn't snapped again since the first time a month ago. Arthur was glad that he hadn't. He'd lain awake thinking about the sudden outburst for a few nights – it had made more of an impact than what he'd let show. There had been something nearly frightening in Alfred's eyes, after all.

"Hey, Artie, are ya with me?"

Arthur snapped out of his thinking trance and blinked. "Yes... Yes, I am."

Alfred chuckled a little and ruffled his hair – when had he gotten so close? "Good. You keep spacin' out, so I was kinda worried. Are those extra classes getting to you?"

"No, I'm fine. I just had trouble sleeping last night is all; there's no need to worry," Arthur said and gave the offered ball in front of him a hard kick.

* * *

><p>Arthur couldn't sleep that night either. Practice during the day had worn him out and he felt exhausted, yet, no matter how much he tossed and turned under the sheets he couldn't drift off to sleep. He tried laying completely still, just staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to take him.<p>

I didn't work.

Arthur let out a groan of frustration as he got out of bed from hours of fruitless attempts to rest. He stood for a moment, tapping his foot gently against the ground, before deciding to take a short stroll around the castle to tire him. So with a cloak heavily draped around him, Arthur dragged his feet out into the hallway. Moonlight seeped in through the large windows, partly illuminating his path. Arthur hadn't even bothered to check what time it was – it hardly mattered when he couldn't sleep, anyway – but the building seemed entirely vacant.

He felt awfully small when walking through the dark, spacious rooms. Small and lonely.

Portraits of the country's former rulers hung proudly on the walls, watching him with criticising eyes. Arthur felt himself shrink even more under the scrutinising stares. He'd never felt that he was suited for reigning, never felt that he was good enough. He, of course, didn't have anyone to compare himself to except for the tales of the great heroic rulers_. The great heroic rulers, who by far surpassed him in everything imaginable._ Arthur didn't think of himself as anything special. He'd been lucky to be born into the role as princess, but maybe Spades wouldn't find it as beneficial. He dreaded the day when he'd have to show himself to the people, reveal the lanky little boy who would rule them for a lifetime, and as things were currently looking, guide them to victory in war.

Arthur could see it in front of him. How the people in the harbour would share horrified glances, look at him as if he were an abomination, and how the streets and gradually the whole kingdom would start to panic. It wasn't a pleasant scenario, and one he'd do anything to avoid at all cost. The physical training would probably do him much better than Arthur had originally thought. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Alfred. He was strong and fairly built for his age; the boy would without a doubt grow up to be a strong and inspiring man like his father.

A yawn finally escaped him and Arthur decided to go back to bed before the depressing thoughts got the better of him. He chose to take a detour though, to help clear his mind and for the sake of variation. It wasn't very tempting to get stared at again either, or _glared_ _at_, as Arthur saw it.

Everything was peaceful until he rounded a corner and saw streaks of golden lights escaping from a room. The door was only slightly ajar, probably not meant to be left open, and Arthur didn't think much of it at first.

"So how are we going to deliver this? Shall we gather everyone by the harbour, or send out the messengers first?"

This, however, made him stop. Arthur instantly recognised the voice as Yao's, and stopped outside the door – he had no real reason to risk peeking inside.

"Well, it is your decision, but agreeing on a date and gather the people then would be ideal. It is tradition, after all."

"Yes, of course, but wouldn't they suspect something? That procedure is indeed the traditional one, and rumours are likely to spread before we've made the announcement. I'd like to avoid rumours and the like at all cost since it'll probably cause havoc and confusion. If we deliver it smoothly with a few comforting reassurances, as false as they may be, we should get the best composed reaction possible."

The other voice was vaguely familiar, and judging by the topic of the discussion, it was likely a council member. What was the topic of discussion, now again? Arthur didn't recall hearing it, but he was also growing more tired, so maybe he'd simply missed it. He was curious though, since it obviously sounded like something important.

"As I said, the decision is yours, not mine. Do as you see fit."

With that, Arthur decided to walk on, trying to ignore the new thoughts that swarmed through his head. If it really was that important, Yao would tell him. And if it wasn't he'd simply find out together with everyone else at the public announcement, he reasoned.

But then it hit him. What if they were talking about him?

He cursed his paranoia immediately and picked up the pace. Of course they weren't talking about him! His identity wouldn't be announced until his sixteenth birthday; surely they weren't going to change the date, there was no reason to. But what else could they be talking about? It had to be something big, considering the troubled tone in the Jack's voice. It was by the harbour that Arthur would be making his appearance though. The Kingdom of Spades was well-known for its navy and skills on the seas. This probably had to do with the fact that the entire continent was surrounded by water. To get to the shore of the country you would have to cross its waters first, which wasn't likely to be a pleasant experience if your motives were hostile. There were ships out by the ocean borders, marking the different territory along with a chain of small islands that formed a frontier. On each of the islands and ships was a massive flag with the representing navy blue spade, to avoid confusion and accidental trespassing. Harbours were therefore important and symbolic places for the kingdom. Next to the squares they were common meeting places in the towns.

A lot of announcements and events did take place by the harbour, so what were the odds that they were talking about him? It was highly unlikely and Arthur felt silly for even entertaining the idea. Yao would tell him tomorrow anyway. If it was that important he had to.

With mild surprise Arthur noticed that he'd made his way back to his chambers and stood before the unmade bed. He lazily removed the dark cloak he'd been wearing and crawled underneath the duvet. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep this time.

* * *

><p>Yao didn't tell him anything the next day though.<p>

Arthur noticed that he was unusually tense during breakfast, but except for the usual greetings, he remained silent. So feeling slightly uneasy, the royal went to Tino for his lessons and extra fencing practice. The physical training wasn't as straining that day, but Arthur still took a long bath before going to meet Alfred. The boy was his usual cheerful self, hugging Arthur excitedly in greeting before telling him about his day.

"So it was Mrs Jacobson's… you remember our teacher? Anyway, her birthday today, and we all brought something baked from home," he said enthusiastically and showed a cloth he'd brought along. "I got some left over and since you said that you liked blueberry pie." Alfred smiled as he unfolded the fabric to reveal the treat. "I only brought one fork though… But you don't mind sharing, do you?"

"Oh," Arthur said, surprised, "no, not really."

Alfred smiled at him and handed over the fork, letting him take the first bite. There was still a fair amount left of the pie, so Arthur took a generous piece. Despite being cold, it tasted heavenly. Arthur moaned slightly, to which Alfred lit up.

"Is it good?" he asked, eager for a reply.

"Yes, it's delicious," Arthur said and gave back the fork.

"That's great! I helped mom make it this time, so…" Alfred took a big bite himself, smile growing bigger as he slid the fork out of his mouth.

"You're quite talented yourself then," the royal praised and received the fork again.

"Nah, it was mostly mom who did the work." Despite the dismissal, Alfred's cheeks grew a faint pink. "Here," he said and gestured to the utensil.

He didn't get a good grip of the fork before Arthur let go though, and the piece of metal fell down with a weak clatter on the wall. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that." Alfred picked it up again and started wiping it off on his sleeve. He quickly deemed it clean enough and took another bite.

"No, it was my fault, I seem a bit distrac-"

"Ow couse it wa'n't you' fault, A'tie," Alfred said with his mouth full of pie. Arthur nodded weakly and watched in bewilderment as the boy scooped up another bite with the fork. "Open up," he said, and brought the utensil closer to Arthur's face.

"What?"

"Just makin' sure we don't drop it again. Now, open up!"

"I'm not a child, Alfred! I can feed myself perfectly fine."

"Yeah, but we might drop it again. And blueberry stains are kinda nasty," Alfred said and gestured to his dirty sleeve.

Arthur felt a little guilty over the stained fabric – those stains wouldn't go away, after all – but he was still reluctant. "You'll just smear it all over my face, won't you?"

"Jeez, of course not, Artie! I have a good aim."

"Somehow, that doesn't reassure me."

"Man, look here," Alfred sighed exasperatedly and scooted in closer, moving his unoccupied hand to cup Arthur's cheek. "I can't miss now, can I? I promise I'm not that bad."

"This is entirely unnecessary, Alfred! I'll just make sure you have a good hold of it before I let go."

Alfred just shook his head. "Do you want more pie or not? I could easily finish it myself."

Arthur gave Alfred a mild glare before fixing his eyes on the pie. He could resist it. He could easily resist it. He hadn't had anything sweet since his birthday six months ago, but he could easily resist i- _oh, damn it all_.

Still reluctant, Arthur slowly opened his mouth. Alfred grinned.

No, the boy was _smirking_ as he fed him. '_Brat_,' Arthur thought. '_Just you wait. In a few years I'll order you to be fed until you grow old and you'll actually need the help_.' When he bit down on the fork, he contemplated whether he should let go or keep it there, just to wind Alfred up, but he let it retreat from his mouth in the end. He wasn't sure whether the taste was worth it anymore. His cheeks were flaming from embarrassment and humiliation. The hand didn't retreat from his cheek either, making the chewing awkward.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Alfred said with an even smugger grin. Arthur merely pouted and continued chewing.

"When did I ever tell you that I liked blueberry pie?" the princess questioned after a while.

"Well, you know that time when I asked if you liked apple pie?" Arthur looked at him quizzically and made a sound of disagreement. "You told me that you'd never eaten it before, anyway… and you said that you liked blueberry pie."

Now he remembered. That was during one of their very first meetings over a year ago now. Arthur had almost completely forgotten about it. He swallowed another mouthful he'd received. "You remember that?"

Alfred chuckled lightly and tilted his head to the side. "Guess my memory's pretty good."

* * *

><p>When he got back, Arthur intentionally stayed close to the Jack, hoping that he'd be pulled aside and told about the important news.<p>

"Is something bothering you?" Yao asked after an hour of the pursuit. Arthur quickly shook his head and pretended to read. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly good manners, so he couldn't just ask him straight out.

After another uneventful evening, the royal went to bed, but the thoughts in his head kept him awake.

It was first the next morning, at breakfast, that the Jack told him that they had something to discuss. Arthur tried to look surprised. "Oh, what is the matter?"

"I'll tell you later. Meet me in my study at 11 o'clock. You are free from lessons till then."

The paranoia he'd felt earlier only grew stronger as he made his way to the Jack's study, ten minutes before the appointed time. They weren't going to talk about his coronation, right? _'The announcement must have to do with something else'_, he'd try to reason with himself. So when Yao told him to sit down in an armchair across the desk with a grim expression, told him that what he was about to tell him would be of great importance to his own and the country's future, Arthur's mind raced with different scenarios, all of them worse than the one he'd thought up earlier.

"I'm just going to be blunt, okay? It doesn't serve any purpose to skip around it," Yao began in a soft, yet serious, voice. Arthur tried to sit still in his chair. The room had grown unbearably hot, and his feet had grown their own will and were persistently stomping the floor, though the carpet muffled the sound. A sweat drop made its way down his forehead as the Jack leaned forward in his chair. _'No. No-no-no-no-no-no-NO! I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready – will I ever be? It's far too early and, oh _God_, I'm not ready and-'_

"Hearts attacked our navy."

Arthur stared.

'_What? Thank goodness, it has nothing to do with me. I really let my fear get the best of me there, ha-ha. Everything is good then… Ha-ha… Wait… _What?_'_

"What?"

"The thirteen ships that we sent to the border of Hearts, they were attacked, all simultaneously, by Hearts' navy," said the Jack. "You do realise what this means?"

Of course he did. It was obvious, but somehow he couldn't muster the words to say it. Yao seemed to catch on and continued for him. "This means war. Hearts has already shown signs of advancement over our borders. If the weather out there continues as it is, their first fleet is estimated to reach Nantucket in four days. While it only consists of ten ships, we've been informed that they're well equipped, and with thirteen ships less out there, they make quite a threat. We've sent five battle ships to assist those already stationed at Nantucket, and 15 passenger ships to evacuate most of its inhabitants. The families of those who were aboard the ships have been informed that some ships are returning and-"

"Even though they died?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Yes, your highness, we cannot say that merely some sailors from a ship are returning while the others are staying out there, now can we?"

Arthur shook his head. "But, what do you mean? Weren't- "

"Would you please withhold any more of your questions until I'm done? It will be much easier this way. Thank you. Now, we have not yet announced the attack to the people, as you've understood, and we're planning on bringing it to light in two days time, down by the harbour. I'm afraid to tell you that this will affect your rule, since we will have to include you more in the council, and you will be expected to state your own opinions of matters, make active decisions – albeit with my guidance – and engage yourself more in our war policies. It may be much to ask of you at such a young age, but despite your appearance we've learnt that you are much intelligent, and if anything we believe that this will strengthen your future rule."

Arthur had sat almost entirely immobilized through Yao's speech, trying to take it all in. In the end he decided to skip around the hardest part, that of his own participation, and chose to state a simpler question that was also bugging him.

"Why would you say that some ships are returning – weren't they all attacked?"

Yao nodded. "Yes, they were indeed all attacked, but some ships fought back better than others, or should I say _had more luck than others_. None of the ships made it through without any loss, though. One ship still has a third of its crew, but that's the biggest amount of survivors we have per ship. Nine of them currently lie in shreds at the bottom of the ocean."

"Right." It was a hard piece of information to process for the princess. Their average navy ship was larger than any of the other nations', and often manned with more than 400 men. Doing the math quickly in his head, he got 5200 men, with much less than a third survivors. Arthur felt sick. "Why were they at Hearts' border in the first place?" he eventually choked out.

"I suppose I can't expect you to remember; it's been over a year now, after all. When Hearts first attacked Clubs, two years ago, we sent five battle ships there to guard our border. Hearts eventually sent out a few ships as well, to guard their own border or to pose as a threat, we did not know, so we sent an additional eight ships there to strengthen our defence. It unfortunately didn't do us much good however."

Something in the back of Arthur's head kept telling him that something was wrong, other than the high death rate, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He swallowed and continued.

"But you haven't declared war officially yet?"

"No, but attacking our navy is quite enough. They're only waiting for us to make it official; we had a declaration sent yesterday. It should arrive in Rome in approximately two weeks if nothing happens to our messenger. The Jack shouldn't take more than a couple of days to take it to Berlin, and hopefully the Queen is also there. During war times I would be surprised if he wasn't." It wasn't uncommon for the rule of a nation to be scattered in three different cities of the country. It was much easier to keep track of the different lands and people that way, since there was no real fast way to send out messages. Arthur felt a little guilty at this, since it was his own incapability that kept the Jack in London where their Queen was usually stationed. Now that they were at war, it would surely serve as a handicap to the nation.

Arthur shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thoughts.

"So you'll announce the news the day after tomorrow?" he eventually asked.

"As it looks right now, yes. You can watch from a carriage as usual if you'd like."

Arthur nodded.

"Good, I'll have it arranged then. We'll discuss our future plans in detail this weekend, for now you should rest and prepare. Hectic times are ahead of us."

* * *

><p>"ARTIE!"<p>

Arthur turned around to look at Alfred who was towards him. The boy didn't stop at the wall though. Instead, he jumped straight up onto it; embraced Arthur; and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead before locking their eyes. The boy looked excited to say the least.

"W-what?" Arthur stuttered, cheeks on fire.

"I have amazing news!"

"Yes?"

"My dad, Artie! My dad is coming home!"

Arthur couldn't help but share equal excitement with the boy – his father was finally coming home! It was, indeed, great news. The boy constantly talked about his father, and now he they were going to be reunited again. But then it hit him; Alfred's father was a navy captain, wasn't he? Arthur's newfound excitement was clouded over with worry.

"That's great, Alfred! But your father… Where was he again?"

"My dad? At the border of Hearts on some mission. He never told me exactly what." Alfred smiled.

"Ah, I see." Arthur's mood sank something immensely. That was where he'd heard it before; Alfred had told him, albeit a long time ago. _'Oh God… Alfred's father was… he was- No, it might have been on a different mission. Our border to Hearts is rather wide. There's no need to worry. Besides, not all ships sank, right? Alfred's father could've survived. If he was aboard one of those ships in the first place, that is, which he definitely wasn't.'_

"Hey, are you okay, Arthur? You look pale all of sudden. How're you feelin'?" Alfred was looking at him with big, worried eyes. They somehow made Arthur feel guiltier.

"I'm just fine," he said. "When were you told of your father's arrival?"

"Mom told me just yesterday. Seriously, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for it! He's been gone for more than a year now. It would be awesome if you could meet him. Do you want to meet him, Artie? He's usually kinda busy, but if it's you I'm sure he'd have time!"

Arthur wanted to throw up, to do _something_ that would relieve him of the guilt; the sickness of knowing that Alfred's father might be dead, lying on the bottom of the ocean… granted that his body was still intact after the assault.

"Arthur? Hey, are you sure that you're okay?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, a bit too hoarsely for his own liking, "I'm just fine."

"You can tell me if something's bothering you, you know? I'll listen."

"No, Alfred, it's not like that. I can assure you that I'm perfectly fine," Arthur said, trying his best to smile. Alfred looked as if he wanted to comment further, but chose to drop it.

"Okay, then."

The people looked calmer than Arthur would've thought. Most probably expected it, only thought it was a matter of time. Yao told everyone about the state of the thirteen ships as well, and that they would hold a ceremony later that evening, to announce the dead men's names and to mourn. Arthur tried to see if he could distinguish Alfred somewhere in the crowd, to get a look at his face – his emotions. His attempts were in vain though; you can't easily spot a thirteen-year-old boy in such a huge mass of people. Especially not if your vision is limited to the small square of a carriage window.

* * *

><p>AN

I'm not really satisfied with the length of this, but oh well. Now that I have summer holidays you'd think that I'd be able to update faster, like everyone else, but I decided to get back on youtube after a six month long hiatus, and that's what's been keeping me busy. I will try to stay active there, as I cannot stay entirely sane without editing for too long. Summing it up, I will not be able to update regularly (not that I really did before ._.), but I hope you'll decide to stick with me :) As for the chapter, no one's too mad, right? :'D I'm going on a trip down to Eastern Europe for ten days, so I'll start on the next chap. down there :)

Reviews are much appreciated!


	8. Some Die Young

"Gōng, Cai; Grady, Ryan; Graham, Andrew; Guō, Richard; Harrison, Jie; Hasting, Lenny; Hasting, Seth-"

Arthur anxiously played with the hem of his sleeve as more names were counted up. He'd drawn the curtains to the carriage window closed, not wanting to look at the families' grieving faces. It was early in the evening, when the Jack had said they'd begin to announce the names of the fallen men. Black clouds darkened the sky. It looked like it would start raining at any moment. Not that it mattered; the hundred lanterns set on the ground would be protected by magic if that were to happen. The families of the dead sailors stood huddled together, seeking warmth and empathy, and Arthur could hear children sobbing quietly. He didn't want to see it. Much worse and greater losses were sure to come, but he allowed himself a quiet moment of ignorance. Ignorance was bliss, after all, if only momentarily.

He tried to drown out the sounds from the crowd, but as he heard the name Jameson be called up he immediately came to attention. They were already at J, meaning if Alfred's father was dead, he'd be announced soon – as Jones. Arthur silently prayed. Swallowing deeply, he pulled open the curtains and gazed up at the announcer, over the mourning people and lights. Yao stood diagonally behind him, wearing black and staring solemnly at the ground. His expression was pained, unlike when he'd broken the news to Arthur, when he'd remained sinfully calm. It was raining now – classical considering the occasion. Arthur already knew it'd be impossible to spot Alfred in the crowd – he'd tried when he first arrived – so he impatiently settled his gaze on the council member, waiting for the "_doom_". The announcer spoke with such a monotone voice and indifferent expression, he must've either done this before or be a sociopath, Arthur noted bitterly.

"Johnson, Taylor," the man said. Arthur held his breath.

"Jones, Anthony."

It was funny. Arthur had expected something dramatic to happen; like a lightening suddenly erupting, the whole world to stop, time freezing, that all sound would disappear, or at least that someone in the crowd would gasp. But nothing different happened. The whole scenario continued as usual, and names Arthur no longer had the will to make out were counted up. As if there was nothing special about that name, about that person. But then again, compared to all the other passed men, was Alfred's father any different, really? Did he deserve a special treatment? Should he be mourned more than the others? No. In Arthur's and a certain other blond-haired boy's opinion, he did. But what was that name among all of the other hundreds to the rest of the crowd? Nothing. If anything, it was just another insignificant name of a stranger, one without face nor personality, that filled up the death toll, leaving hope that they took up the spot in place of their own beloved ones. As they grieved, others felt a guilty relief.

He wanted to cry. It was sad, and he was feeling sad. He felt guiltier though. Not the same kind of guilt that the families of the lucky survivors felt, but a different kind of guilt from knowing that he could've told Alfred yesterday. He could've prepared him, not making this as suspending and crushing as it now was. He wanted to see him so badly, because Alfred was always there for him. But Arthur... he wasn't able to be there for Alfred, he _couldn't_. Because he couldn't barge out of the carriage and look for him among the families. He wasn't _allowed_ to, and the thought angered him. And knowing that he could've done something the previous day... Albeit being small, it would've been _something_.

He let out an agitated growl, slamming his fists down into the cushioned seats next to him. Without really thinking, he kicked out both his legs to smash his soles against the opposite wall of the carriage. The sound erupting wasn't nearly loud enough to satisfy him, so he repeated the movements. It felt weird, wanting something to share his pain – his misery. The wooden wall was an inanimate object, it wouldn't feel anything no matter what he did to it, but still he continued. It was first when the carriage driver, a young maid working at the castle, opened the door that he stopped.

She was blurry in his field of sight, but he could still hear her clearly. Her voice was strained, a bit nervous.

"Are you all right, your highness?"

"How come you didn't knock?" was Arthur's snappy reply. He wasn't in the mood for talking to anyone, especially not her. She didn't know him; she didn't understand what he was going through; she knew nothing.

"I did, your highness, but you didn't answer me. I thought something might have happened – that you were being attacked. I was only concerned is all."

"Well, don't be," he spat back. The maid looked offended, but didn't say anything. "You people are only paid to care."

"Your highness, please, do calm dow-"

"Just leave me alone, would you? I don't want you here!" Before the maid could reply, Arthur stood up and slammed the door shut. Why didn't anyone understand him? He wanted to be alone...! Or with Alfred... Comforting Alfred was his first priority after all. But even if he got to the boy, who was he to comfort him? He wouldn't be of any use if he was a crying mess, as he'd rendered himself.

But it wasn't his fault, was it? It was Yao who'd made the decision to tell the families. Why would he even do that? Couldn't it just have waited? Why would he get their hopes up? Arthur wasn't mad with himself anymore – all of his anger was now channeled at the Jack. The princess groaned. It was exhausting. He didn't know what, but _something_ – his anger, blame, guilt, self loathing? – was exhausting him.

He couldn't just sit there any longer. He wouldn't. He needed to relieve himself of the stress somehow.

So completely without thinking, Arthur opened the carriage door and jumped out onto the cobblestone. He landed in a water puddle, soaking his shoes and socks.

"W-what are you doing, your– Arthur! You must get inside immediately!"

He simply stormed past the maid, yanking his arm loose when she grabbed after him. The woman continued to call out orders of stopping, in panic. Her shouts had already caused a scene next to the nearly silent crowd. Arthur didn't look back though. He knew she'd get the disguised guards – if they weren't already after him – so he settled for a spurt.

It was an uphill street, like all the others leading away from the harbour, and maybe the same one he'd run with Alfred more than a year ago. They looked almost identical, and he didn't remember the buildings in detail.

"Stop, Arthur! Halt!" came the cries from the guards. They were, naturally, inching closer. Where did they think he was going, anyway? He didn't have anywhere to go except for the castle. Or at least they didn't think he did. Arthur was in fact going for the castle gates, but instead of actually entering the building he was going to turn right and head for the Holy Woods. It seemed like the best option, being the only place where he could be alone undisturbed.

Someone suddenly grasped his shoulder from behind, causing him to abruptly halt. Instinctively he turned around and aimed a punch at his captor, only to immediately regret it. The guard captured the fist in an iron-like grip and twisted his arm. Arthur yelped in pain and was forcefully turned around.

"Calm down, your highness," his capturer wheezed in his ear. Two more men then arrived, blocking the boy's view. "That was dangerous – you know you mustn't show yourself in public. Where were you going?" The first man began to push him forward and Arthur couldn't other than walk.

"I was just going back to the castle. You're overreacting," Arthur hissed.

"You could've just waited for May to take you back, when the ceremony was over. That was very disrespectful of you."

Arthur snorted. They weren't any better than the maid.

Once they got inside the castle the wet males were given towels to dry. Arthur was taken to a common room with a lit fireplace where a guard and two maids watched over him. They tried to start a conversation with the princess, but he was too stubborn to answer.

Yao eventually appeared, after a couple of hours. The Jack was still sporting a grim expression. He sat down in the sofa next to Arthur and gestured for the other three to leave. Another moment passed before Yao spoke up. "We're stressed enough as it is. Was that scene really necessary?"

Arthur visibly huffed, but remained silent.

"Arthur, you know you can't show yourself to the public yet. You were lucky it was dark and everyone's attention was directed elsewhere, but if that happens again they are bound to see you. I've already clarified this – many years ago – and I do not understand why you chose now of all times to break our agreement. Isn't letting you visit the city in the carriage enough? I could withdraw that privilege, you know. It's nothing you should take for granted." Yao's tone was accusing, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to care. He was too upset with the Jack, with the entire ordeal, to focus on the threat.

"Why would you tell them they were returning?" he asked.

"Pardon, your highness?"

"Why did you tell the families that the marines were returning?" Arthur asked in a louder, desperate voice. "What was the bloody point of that?"

Yao looked taken aback before the expression changed to offended. "Language, Arthur. It wasn't my decision to make. There weren't any other options."

"Of course there were other options – you could just have waited and told them that all the ships were attacked. You're not making any sense!"

"Calm down now, your highness. It would be easier to explain if you didn't interrupt me. One of the survivors had already sent a letter home. I don't know how he got ahold of it, but the man apparently kept a personal messenger bird aboard. We were told that this man contacted his family immediately after the attack, telling them he was coming home. We were also informed that he'd spent many years out at sea, thus his homesickness, if it can be called that. Now, while he didn't write anything about the attack we didn't want anyone to suspect anything until we'd inspected the damage. It could've just been a group of rebellious outlaws that'd hijacked Hearts' ships, but that unfortunately wasn't the case. Do you need any further explanation, your highness?"

Arthur shook his head, no. He understood, but didn't find the situation any better. But instead of being mad with Yao he cursed the man now. He found it easier to be mad with a stranger than his mentor, so it was at least some improvement.

"So," Yao started, bringing Arthur back to attention, "will you promise to stay away from public until you're of age?"

Reluctantly, he muttered a 'yes'. The Jack excused himself then, leaving Arthur alone in the common room. There was no fire left, only smoulder. Arthur subconsciously traced his finger along his neck as he stared into the glowing coal. It would stay alive for a while more, he figured. At some point he'd started to cry again – hopefully not when the Jack was still present. Everything was just so unfair. There was nothing he could've done. There really wasn't. Except for telling Alfred, of course. Why hadn't he told him again? Because he was afraid of his reaction? Because he thought he would be mad with Arthur instead? The princess was sobbing loudly by now. It was he who'd screwed up, wasn't it? Not Yao, not the man, not the Kingdom of Hearts. Hearts was the cause of everything, but it was he who hadn't told Alfred.

Arthur never made it to his chambers that night. He fell asleep on the sofa.

* * *

><p>He'd always imagined some ugly troll. Or occasionally Angelique. But never before had he pictured himself as the target.<p>

The straw in the training dummy made soft rustles as Arthur struck his blade against it. He'd been going since noon, and wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. Sweat was dripping down his forehead as he continued with the blows. It was an unusually warm day for that part in the kingdom; the weather crisp and clean despite the previous evening.

With a well-aimed swing, Arthur had the training dummy's left arm severed from the rest of its straw body. He winced as it fell to the ground. There went Imaginary Arthur's arm. He deserved it though, the princess mused. He deserved it for being such a failure. So with a now very dull blade, Arthur aimed for the "throat" of the mannequin. The grass made close to no resistance as the sword tore through it. There was a soft thud as the head fell to the ground.

"Wow. Someone's angry."

Arthur turned around to glare at the newcomer. "Go away, Angelique," he sighed.

"Nope! You can't tell me what to do," she said and strolled over, bending down to look at the dummy's head. "Like, really, when did you get so strong? Wait, of course you're not strong, my bad. You're just angry because the guards caught you yesterday, right? I saw you from the window." She giggled, much to Arthur's dismay. "Did you finally do something bad?"

"It's none of your business. Now leave me alone." The princess turned to the remains of the straw doll and swung his sword again. He pierced the heart and twisted the blade before pulling out and striking once more.

"You really did do something then!" Her voice was full of excitement. "How bad was it? Did you get to meet the Jack in person – did he _scold_ you?"

"Just go away, Angelique!" Another straw arm fell to the ground.

"But you have to tell me! I mean, you never mess up, this must be really good," she insisted and stepped closer.

"Go away, I said!" Arthur felt his personal space being invaded and turned to push her away. He didn't realise how close she was though, and his elbow made a hard impact with her stomach. Angelique gasped and stepped back, clutching her front. Her breathing was suddenly frantic. She looked up at Arthur with tear-filled eyes as she panted. Realising what he'd done, Arthur reached out carefully. "I-I'm so sorry, Angelique! Are you all right? I didn't mean to do that, swear."

"C-can't breathe," she sobbed and bent over. She was panicking, Arthur could tell. He put a hand on her shoulder and tried to make eye contact.

"There now. It'll be all right, just try to breathe stea-"

"Don't touch me!" she exclaimed. The girl pushed him away with surprising strength before making a choking noise. Her whole frame was shaking.

Arthur tried to reach out again. "Angelique, I-"

"It's your damn fault," she choked out in between sobs. "I hate you!" Before Arthur could react she'd turned and was running towards the castle. The young royal did nothing to stop her. He just stood there, frozen.

What had just happened? Arthur continued to stare dumbstruck at the building before he'd finally processed the event. In just a couple of minutes – or maybe less than one, Arthur hadn't kept track of time – he'd hurt yet another person. He groaned in exasperation with himself and turned back to the dummy. He gave the thing a hard kick and watched as the pole it was put upon bent backwards in the dirt. He continued to kick until the entire headless doll was on the ground. He then pierced the left side of its chest, where the previous hole still gaped.

"Damn you, Arthur Kirkland. Why can't you do anything right?"

He left the sword standing in the straw figure and headed back to the castle. It was with tired steps that he made it back to his quarters. A maid greeted him inside, telling him she'd poured a bath. "Thank you," Arthur said and went into the bathroom. The water seemed to be scourging, but he welcomed the heat. He climbed into the tub after removing his sweat damp clothes. The liquid burned.

It was a rather nice bathroom. Tiles that covered the walls and floor were set in patterns of gold, sapphire, and plum; the bathtub and sink were of shiny porcelain; the bright, magical light in the ceiling illuminating the entire room. He'd never given much thought to the room's interior before, but now he was thankful for the distraction.

No matter how much he continued to study the blue details of extravagant furniture, he couldn't help his mind from drifting to Alfred though. He'd go to meet him as soon as he was done with his bath. That had become routine during the last month, but maybe the boy was too heartbroken to come? Arthur was incredibly upset himself, and it wasn't even his father who'd died. Poor, poor Alfred. Imagining him sad only made Arthur want to see him more though. Maybe he could amend his behaviour towards his friend and make up for the stupid mistake? He sure hoped so. If anything he owed the boy some over-the-top comforting.

The stress he felt made him tired, more so than he'd been the previous evening. Arthur didn't think he deserved the rest, but he certainly needed it. So with little hesitation he reached out and grabbed a fuzzy towel. He positioned it behind his head and lay back. It was far too easy to get lost in the comfort, his mind soon filling with equanimous thoughts. If he were to support Alfred he'd need to rest. Arthur closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>The water was lukewarm when he awoke.<p>

Arthur startled as he recognised his position; head just above the water surface, dangerously close to being down under. When had he fallen asleep? The young royal quickly scrambled out of the bathtub and dried himself. Unceremoniously, he ran out into the main room of his quarters, towel tightly secured around his hips. He'd requested the maids to stop helping him with bathing himself – and dressing afterwards – months ago, but they occasionally entered the Queen's quarters to clean or refill the teapot that always stood on his library desk, so better safe than sorry. He'd have to be stricter with the rules when it came to knocking, he mentally noted. When storming into his closet, he swiftly put on a pair of dark trousers and a simple, yet exquisite, white shirt. It had fine, navy and gold embroideries on the cuffs, which gave away his wealth, but Arthur didn't care at that moment. A quick glance at a clock proved that he'd slept for far too long and was very late for his meeting with Alfred.

He rushed out of his quarters, down through the hallways, and descended the Grand Staircase. It was first when he sprinted out over the cobblestone path, on his way into the maze, that he realised he'd forgot to put on shoes. It was the uneven surface that'd alerted him. Arthur didn't think he'd have time to go back now though, so he just clumsily pulled off his socks and put them in his trouser pockets. There was no need to get grass stains on them and arouse suspicion. Well into the maze, the underlay changed from the cobblestone to much finer crumbled rocks, almost like sand. It felt weird to run on. Some stone fragments stuck to his soles. The ground changed again as he entered the woods. The grass and moss under his bare feet was a new and much welcomed sensation, though it was occasionally broken when he stepped on sharp rocks. Despite being a hot day, the undergrowth was surprisingly moist. He was almost too distracted by the ground that he didn't realise that he'd reached the wall. Arthur contemplated whether he dared to look up or not, seeing as Alfred might not be there. He chanced a quick glance though and was relieved to find a smiling face looking down at him.

"Hello, Alfred." Arthur was surprised – he'd expected a sullen look on the other's face. Instead the boy just kept grinning at him, as usual.

"Hey there, Arthur!" Was he pretending nothing had happened? Maybe that was easier for the boy. Arthur hadn't thought about that before. "Want some help?"

"Thank you." Arthur tried to smile as he accepted the offered hand. If Alfred was trying to ignore the happenings of the previous evening, so would he.

After being hauled up on the brick wall Arthur expected the other to start talking like he usually did. Alfred remained silent though, smiling softly at him before looking out into the forest. For the first time since he'd met Alfred, the two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Arthur didn't know what to do, so he fidgeted quietly in his seat, absentmindedly playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. Alfred slowly caught up on his movements. "Nice shirt you got there," he commented. Arthur looked up into his eyes and found the boy still smiling. He didn't know if it was his own paranoia, but he thought the smile was weaker than usual; fake, almost.

"Thank you."

"Y'know," Alfred began, "I wasn't sure you'd come. I thought something might've happened."

"What? No. I'm fine, I just accidentally fell asleep." Alfred laughed at that, the sound bright and clear.

"Really? That doesn't sound like you." The princess frowned and shrugged, but was relieved all the same.

Alfred seemed determined to not let the silence consume them once more, so he quickly spoke again. "So... Uhm... You were at the harbour yesterday, right?" Arthur nodded. Was he going to bring it up now? He would have to eventually, right? Alfred's smile drained of sincerity again. Arthur listened intently.

"So we're actually at war. It feels a bit weird, doesn't it? I mean, I thought I would've already joined the navy when it became official."

Arthur just stared at the other, puzzled. "Well," he finally said, "I think it's that good you haven't. You'd only be sent out there with the others." Dared he say it? It looked like Alfred was about to speak, but Arthur took the chance. "You heard what happened to the ships. Had you been out there that could've been you."

Alfred looked a bit guilty at that, chewing on his bottom lip with his eyes averted. He looked sad, too, but not overemotionally so. Arthur tried desperately to read him, but it didn't seem worse than that. He was just guilty and sad, not devastated like the royal first had thought. "I know, but... Well, y'know... I want to fight. It's the only thing I can do for the kingdom. I'm not very good with politics, and I've always admired my dad, so yeah... Like I've told you; I want to join the navy. But I want to fight as well. If I can't fight then there's really no point. I just want to do something for the kingdom, you know? I want to have done something more significant before I die. Really, I don't care if I die young – as long as I've _done_ something more. Like saving people's lives." Alfred paused for a bit, considering how to continue. Arthur couldn't other than stare. Where was all this coming from?

"What are you talking about, Alfred? You shouldn't think too much about the war, and definitely not about throwing away your life! Where is this coming from, all of sudden?" Arthur winced mentally when he realised he'd sounded disturbingly much like Yao had the previous evening. Alfred looked lost at his words, trying desperately to find some of his own. He looked like a defenseless puppy, which actually wasn't that far from the truth.

"I want to save people; I want to help them... I don't know what else I could do. I just..." Alfred trailed off. His voice was strained, and he swallowed. Was he about to _cry_? Arthur had subconsciously leaned forward and embraced the boy just as he let out a choked sob.

"Hush," Arthur whispered. Alfred buried his face in the royal's shoulder, taking deep breaths. He was already trying to compose himself – it was obvious that he'd tried to avoid crying in the first place.

"I'm sorry. It's just... Have you ever been to a funeral?" Alfred's voice sounded so weak, it was almost heartbreaking. Arthur wasn't used to hearing him like that at all; he was always so strong and happy. He had expected it, of course; this was what his rest had originally been for. Being there with a broken Alfred was a lot harder in reality than it had been in his head though. What was he supposed to do to help him? Exactly how did he comfort him? Doing what Alfred had done to him seemed futile – the boy's mother had probably already done that. Oh yes, he'd asked him something, hadn't he? Arthur felt even dumber for not listening.

"Pardon? Sorry, I didn't quite get that."

"Have you ever been to a funeral?" Alfred asked again.

Arthur didn't have to think for long. "Yes." His aunt's.

"Well, you know, everyone's always so sad. Just because one person died. And they're usually very many. Some even scream. They break down and they actually _scream_. It's horrible." Arthur was shocked by Alfred's words; partly because it was weird hearing him say something so depressing, and partly because it sounded like he'd been to a lot of funerals. "So I figured that if I saved that person, the one who died, then everyone would be happy. I mean, I know I can't do anything if they're just old, but a lot of them are young. There are even children, a lot of them younger than us."

Alfred pulled back slightly to wipe his eyes. The moist layer covering the deep blues reminded Arthur of the ocean – the wide, free, endless blue ocean. Staring into those bottomless orbs only added to the surrealism of the situation. He had heard every word Alfred said, and he could piece them together, but nothing of it made sense in his head. Everything was just a blur of confusion, stress, and the knowledge that he was absolutely incapable of doing anything for Alfred was bringing frustration into the whole mess. So Arthur only nodded, knowing better than to ask the boy questions in his current state. "I won't be able to do anything if I can't serve the kingdom now, now that we're at war. There won't be any other opportunities to help anyone."

"Alfred, there are more than one way to help people. Even if the war were to end soon, which we should hope it will, there are plenty of other ways for you. I'm sure you'd make an astounding navy captain, but that's not all you'd be good at. Trust me. You shouldn't limit your future to something you haven't you're not entirely sure of." Arthur hoped that had sounded encouraging. Alfred smiled sadly, so maybe it had?

"That's just the thing – I want to be a navy captain, I really do, but I can't be one right now, and lots of people are going to die... Do you get it? They're going to die and I won't be able to do a thing." The princess was at a loss of what to say. Thinking Alfred was completely happy-go-lucky had apparently been a false assumption. He was more vigilant than Arthur first had thought; more vigilant with a far more tutelary mindset. Alfred must've always been that way, Arthur only being too blind to notice. What was he supposed to say to boy with such conflicting feelings? What would he have wanted to hear himself? Arthur didn't know, so he settled a comforting hand on Alfred's shoulder and leaned forward to say in a softer, assuring, voice,

"Don't think like that. It's not your fault – no one can prevent anything. Let's just pray for the war to be over soon, okay?"

Nothing had progressed for the better after a month though, and Hearts' ships were still roaming Spadian waters. The other kingdom had gone from the offensive to a more passive battle strategy. Spades' navy easily kept them at bay, but when they made any attempt to drive them completely out, they were met with brutal all-out-attacks. Hearts seemed content staying out at sea for the time being, but many evacuated from the coasts nearest the attacks. It was discussed in the imperial court whether Spades should dare to go on the offensive instead; using their knowledge of the ocean to quickly infiltrate Hearts and hopefully take enough essential ports for the other kingdom to consider surrendering. That was one of the decisions they wanted Arthur to make. After a lot of pondering and guiding from Yao he chose against it though, deeming it too risky.

The court weren't going easy on the young monarch. Arthur found himself constantly tired and buried in papers. Sleep came unnaturally easy, perhaps because his work had significantly increased and he needed more time to finish everything. The meetings with Alfred therefore became shorter. He made sure to never miss them, and was glad to see the boy acting like usual again. Since there were no new news about the battlefront, the capital – and Alfred, considerably – had calmed down. There was still a light tension in the air, but everyone subtly tried to ignore it, going on with their everyday lives. Except for the hectic days at the castle nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

It was therefore Arthur found himself surprised for the first time in a month, on a completely ordinary day.

He was meeting with Alfred after a hard day of training and was just relishing in the quiet walk through the woods. Some leaves had already started to drain of their lush, green colour. Soon the trees would be bathing in fire again, and while Arthur very much liked green, he looked forward to it. The physical exercise wouldn't be nearly as straining when the temperature had dropped a little. Plus, everything looked pretty in autumn.

When he arrived at the wall he had to bite back a chuckle. Alfred was sitting up there with poorly contained excitement; he fidgeted frantically and his feet tapped an uneven rhythm against the bricks. The boy grinned as he spotted Arthur.

"Hey Artie, c'mere, quickly!"

Arthur obeyed and ran up to the wall where he was hauled up. Alfred's eyes were positively sparkling. "Guess what?" he exclaimed excitedly.

Arthur chuckled. "Michael finally returned your football?"

"No, dude. And we're calling it soccer now, y'know? You're too old-fashioned," Alfred said and nodded his own head in agreement. The princess rolled his eyes, but smiled amusedly.

"What is it then?"

"I told my dad about you, and he's invited you over for dinner!"

Arthur was just about to accept his offer when he caught up with the boy's words. The monarch tilted his head to the side in a wary manner.

"What?"

* * *

><p>AN

Hello again! I'm still alive, though I update slowly :/ . . . I hope people still follow this xD

As for the emotional breakdowns in this; I just realised I'd made them teenagers, thus the teenage angst. Whether it will continue in the next chapter or not, I don't know. Is it too annoying? xD

Anyway, it'd be nice if you dropped by a comment/pm and told me how you like the story so far. It's nowhere near finished, and I'd very much like feedback on what to write more of/add/improve! Also, if you spot any typos or grammatical errors, please tell me! (Also, if you've pm:d me and I haven't replied it's because I haven't received notifications in my mail – I just checked my inbox here today. I'll reply to you A.S.A.P!)

And with that; I'm done. Thank you for reading :)


	9. All the Clouds Are Closing In

"My dad, Artie, he's invited you over for dinner," Alfred repeated. Arthur's questioning look did not falter. "You don't have to if you don't have time, but it'd be really cool if you could!"

"No, no – that's not it…"

Anthony Jones. Anthony Jones was dead. Arthur had heard the name clearly, and yet Alfred was stating that the man was still alive. Was Arthur dreaming? No, no, that wasn't it, but something was definitely amiss. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but your father… wasn't he mentioned at the harbour?"

"What? No."

"Are you sure? I'm positive I heard him." Alfred shook his head incredulously.

"No! My dad is at home right now. When did you hear him get called up?"

"At the harbour! They said it there; Anthony Jones. I'm sure I heard it." Was he wrong? Maybe they hadn't said Anthony Jones at all; he might've imagined it. Arthur stared in shock as Alfred grinned.

"My dad's name isn't Anthony, Artie. It's Henry."

"It's Henry? Henry Jones?"

"Yes, Arthur, it's Henry Jones."

"Not Anthony Jones?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I'd know my own dad's name."

"Right. Of course you do."

Arthur felt so stupid, so incredibly stupid and relieved. There he'd gone for days, just assuming that that man – Anthony – was Alfred's father. Why had he drawn such a hasty conclusion? Maybe because he had expected the worst all along.

"There were a lot of Joneses counted up, you know? What made you think it was Anthony?"

"I… I didn't think, I guess. I'm sorry, Alfred." Arthur was laughing now, a little awkwardly, but still laughing. This was so _absurd_ – how he'd worried himself sick over nothing. His friend looked at him with a sympathetic smile. Arthur suddenly felt a hand on his cheek, stroking gently. He only then realised he'd been crying – probably from laughing.

"You okay? Do you want me to hold you?" Alfred asked kindly. He removed his hand and held out his arms in invitation. Arthur shook his head, but leaned in all the same. He didn't really need the comforting – not like the first time it had happened – but it felt nice, being held like that. Alfred was really spoiling him when it came to hugs, but he didn't receive any from anyone else, so Arthur figured it was fine.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, perfectly content with how things had turned out. "Thank you."

"Good." Alfred sounded unaffected as usual, but Arthur knew better now. After the small breakdown Alfred had last month, he wasn't sure what the other was actually thinking. It bothered him, but he doubted Alfred would give him an honest answer if he asked. Alfred pulled away slightly, so that they came face-to-face again. Arthur was no longer crying, and there were hardly any traces of tears left on his face either. "So… Do you wanna come over for dinner?"

Right. Arthur had almost forgotten about the invitation. Was there any good way of turning him down politely? He did want to dine with Alfred's family – in fact, he would have loved to – but there still was that small problem of Alfred's mother. What if she recognised him? He had managed to stay relatively hidden from her sight last time, but he couldn't wear a hood during dinner. "I… I don't know Alfred. I would have loved to, but my schedule's really tight… homework and all." He sent him an apologetic smile, feeling even worse about lying when he saw how Alfred's ever-present smile fell.

"Oh… Well, yeah. That's okay. Mine's pretty packed too." He laughed, but Arthur could tell that it wasn't genuine. It was actually a miracle that Alfred hadn't seen through his façade yet, especially when he knew that Arthur had to live somewhere on the castle grounds. The boy's shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked up at him again with faint hope in his eyes. "It's just… it's not like you'd impose or somethin'. My mom's still busy with funerals, so it's just me and dad." He shrugged, but still eyes Arthur with those shining eyes. The princess contemplated his options.

"Shouldn't the funerals already be over with?" Arthur asked casually, not wanting to seem too interested, but in a way he guessed that he was. It had been a month since Hearts sank the ships. One couldn't wait with a funeral for that long. "The ones for the war casualties, I mean."

Alfred shook his head, looking rather sad about the fact. "Well, they're already buried and all, but there hasn't been time to hold ceremonies for everyone. Mom's really stressed." Arthur sent him a sympathetic smile, knowing that Alfred had probably been lonely at home without his mother. He didn't know if his father had come home a long time ago, but he had a feeling Alfred would have told him if that was the case.

Even though Arthur pitied his friend at the moment, he couldn't help but smile inwards. Alfred's mother wasn't home. Since Eleanor was the only one who could possibly recognise him, that meant that there shouldn't be any harm in accepting the invitation, right? Even if she had told her husband about him, he shouldn't be able to identify him – especially not if he could make Alfred introduce him as "Artie" again. Wonderful.

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that," he said, putting a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "You know, actually, I might be able to squeeze it in… I mean, it's just _one_ evening." He smiled a little timidly at him. He hadn't been lying when he said that his schedule was packed, but this was a special occasion; a once-in-a-lifetime chance for him, probably, and with Alfred's mother gone he just couldn't miss it.

Whatever hesitance he still felt about the matter completely melted away when he saw Alfred's reaction. There were few times when he actually saw him _shine_. There was no other way to describe the look on his face; it was like a sun that radiated happiness.

"Really?" Alfred threw himself at him in another hug. "Awesome! I'll let him know you're coming. Does tomorrow work for you?"

Arthur, a little flustered at the exaggerated reaction, nodded dumbly, his arms hanging limp by his sides. "Yeah, tomorrow's fine."

"Great!" Alfred pulled away again and – much to Arthur's surprise – planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Meet me here at 5 sharp tomorrow, then," he said. Arthur could have sworn that his cheeks looked redder as Alfred looked down at his side of the wall, as if averting his gaze. "I-I'll go and tell him now… Yeah, I'll do that." He flashed Arthur another bright smile before jumping down onto the moss, and with a wave began to jog off. Arthur could only stare after him, feeling confused and disappointed. He was confused because of Alfred's reaction – he rarely blushed like that – and he was disappointed because he had just run off like that. Arthur had hoped that they could talk for at least another thirty minutes or so. It almost felt as if Alfred couldn't wait to get away. Arthur gave a mental shrug and jumped down from the wall. He rubbed the part of his cheek that still tingled lightly as he walked back. Alfred had gradually developed a tendency to kiss his forehead or cheeks when excited. Arthur didn't know what to think of it. At first it had only been when he hurt himself somewhere – and he could understand that, it was a comforting gesture – but did all friends really kiss each other like that? It wasn't on the mouth, but the kisses were starting to come more often and usually without any reason. Despite the weirdness of it, Arthur found that he didn't mind them.

* * *

><p>"Oh, but <em>please<em>! Really, I'm begging you! You can have my food if you'd like, just please, cover for me?" Arthur was on the verge of falling to his knees in front of the maid. Begging was not really his thing, but Svea did not leave him much of a choice when refusing his first request. He could not tell if he was even close to winning her over either – her face maintained the same expression she'd had at the beginning of the conversation.

It was currently 3 o'clock, with only two hours left before he was supposed to meet up with Alfred. Yao would under no circumstances allow him outside for so many hours, especially when Arthur didn't have any good explanation as to why. Being with his "invisible friends" would not do, and he could definitely not say anything about Alfred. That's why Arthur called Svea up to his chambers. It was supposed to go smoothly, with the maid simply fulfilling his request, but she did not seem to want any part in his "escapades" any longer.

She was still eyeing him indifferently, and Arthur was beginning to contemplate if he should just sneak out for the evening and deal with the consequences later. But finally, _finally_, she gave a curt nod. The princess almost shouted with joy. "Thank you!" he said, and got up from his crouching position. "I promise I won't do anything stupid."

"How long will you be gone?" Her voice almost startles him. For how long would he be gone? He honestly had no idea. The dinner should not take too long, and they would probably be having it around 6… Svea seemed to notice his hesitance, and spoke up. "Be back at 9 latest." Arthur looked up at her in surprise. Nine seemed a little late, but he was not going to complain. Instead, he sent her a thankful smile.

"I will! Thank you so much for doing this."

Picking out an outfit for the dinner proved to almost be a greater challenge than his talk to the maid. He did not want to come in the simple, everyday clothes Alfred had already seen him in so many times. Considering the boy's enthusiasm, he should probably try to dress up. But there was the second problem; he couldn't dress too fancy. Arthur had to find a good balance in between the ragged clothes he usually wore and his royal outfits. Unfortunately, he did not own many "in-between garments". They were either of comfortable, but practical and cheap fabric that hung loosely over his small frame, or of fine silk with gold-trimmed cuffs. Arthur groaned. He felt silly, standing on his lonely island surrounded by a sea of clothes that had been thrown to the floor in fit of agitation. Why did it even matter? Alfred should be grateful that he found time to come over at all! The princess sighed, reaching down to pick up a crisp, white shirt. The fabric wasn't too much, but someone had embroidered the front; a spade in gold and sapphire threads. It wasn't _too_ fancy, but Arthur was paranoid. It wasn't unusual for Spadians to wear clothes with spades on them, but he still felt that it was too big a hint for what he was. Arthur peeked inside his wardrobe again, at the few clothes that still hung there. His torso was already bare from having tried on different shirts, so he simply slipped on the embroidered one before reaching inside the closet to grab a dark navy vest. He put it on, and after buttoning it, happily noted that it covered up most of the spade motif. That worked. Now he just had to find a pair of trousers to go with it.

The rest of the outfit was easier to pick out. Ten minutes later, Arthur examined himself in front of the mirror. Dark brown trousers clothes his legs, as well as a pair of white stockings, trimmed with gold thread. His shoes looked more like boots. They were sturdy, practical more than anything, but still polished on the black surface. He would be walking through a forest – destroying a finer pair of shoes would raise suspicion.

Much like the time he had snuck out to the town without consent, Arthur's journey through the castle was slightly nerve-wrecking, but successful. He made it to the wall without anyone seeing him. A smile spread across face when he saw Alfred already there, fidgeting impatiently – out of excitement or nervousness, Arthur couldn't tell, but he guessed on the former. The boy noticed his arrival almost immediately, having already gazed his way.

"Hey!" he called out, voice loud and clear. Arthur mentally cringed, his paranoia wondering if someone had heard. Of course no one had. They were too deep into the woods for any servant or guard to even entertain the thought of going there. Arthur wasn't supposed to be doing this though, and he knew it. He would be forbidden to ever leave the castle if Yao found out, and Alfred would probably receive some sort of punishment as well. God, what would they do to him if they found out that he _knew_? Arthur didn't want to think about it, so he didn't. Instead, he returned the greeting, waving at him.

"Hey… I'm not late, am I?" Alfred shook his head and helped pull him up on the wall.

"Nope, I'm early!" He said it as if it was something he was proud of. Arthur couldn't understand why – he was rarely "late" whenever they met, not that they had a specific time...

"All right, then." Arthur mentally smirked when he noticed Alfred checking out his outfit. His eyes seemed to linger on certain places longer than others, but Arthur thought nothing of it. Alfred whistled lowly.

"Nice clothes."

"Thank you." Arthur had to admit, Alfred didn't look half-bad himself. The puffy, white cotton shirt he wore made him appear broader, made him look _older_. Straps that were attached to a pair of light-brown trousers made the shirt accentuate the form of his chest. Alfred hadn't been as practical with his choice of shoes though. They were hardly meant for walking on anything but a hard, smooth and dry surface. "Yours, too." Alfred grinned, and Arthur almost regretted saying anything, for he didn't look up to meet his gaze as he mumbled a "thanks". Rude. Arthur sat there awkwardly, waiting for the boy to realise his mistake, but the apologise and sheepish smile never came. Alfred continued staring into thin air – or well, he was staring at Arthur, but not at his face – and the princess eyed him impatiently. Why was he spacing out? Arthur sighed. "It's rude to stare, you know," he told him sharply. Alfred seemed to finally come to at that. He looked up at Arthur with slightly widened eyes. And was that a blush on his face?

"Ah, sorry… Let's go," he mumbled, and they both jumped down on Alfred's side of the woods. His feet had hardly met the ground when Alfred practically flew down the road he'd created during his many trips to the wall. Arthur struggled to keep up at first. The wheat-haired boy was walking, but it felt as if his feet hit the ground twice as fast as Arthur's. If he was doing this on purpose or not, Arthur couldn't tell.

"What's the hurry?" the princess asked, slightly annoyed. Maybe the boy was embarrassed because he had spaced out, or maybe he was giddy? Either way, it didn't justify leaving him behind! He was supposed to be a guest now, wasn't he?

Alfred looked back, and then slowed his pace to walk next to Arthur. "Sorry, it's just, the faster we get there, the more time we have, right?" The blush was completely gone – Arthur wondered if he might have imagined it – and Alfred took his hand to guide him down the trampled road. "I can't wait to show you the house! Oh, and my room! And for you to meet my dad… It's gonna be awesome!" Alfred was back to his normal self, it seemed. It felt surreal that he'd acted any differently back at the wall, and Arthur silently forgave him.

"I'm sure," he said. It would be nice to finally see Alfred's house. He just hoped the boy understood that it was a rare occurrence, and that he wouldn't be able to come over regularly from now on. Hopefully, he did. He hadn't bothered Arthur about coming with him to school or even into town since last time. Granted, things hadn't gone so well back then, but still. It didn't take long before the colourful church came into sight. Arthur eyed the funny-looking building while Alfred led him down a different path than the one that led to the city. The soft moss under their shoes was soon replaced by cobblestone. Unlike the path that led to the gate, this one went behind the church, towards the graveyard. Arthur shuddered. Thankfully, they didn't have to walk amongst the gravestones. Alfred turned right just before they reached the cemetery, heading down yet another path. This one led to a small opening in the forest that lay opposite from the Holy Woods. It was a rather small patch of trees, just enough to cover what lay behind them. Alfred was practically skipping down over the cobblestones now, pulling Arthur along. There was a small, white fence ahead, with a matching gate. Arthur could see a house lying on the other side, though not facing them. The small route they were walking now was obviously meant to make Eleanor's access to the church easier. The family's house was facing the city, though there was a small brick wall there, too, marking the property. The house was white – wooden, from what Arthur could tell –, fairly large two-story building. Arthur had expected it to be a small, almost humble house considering Alfred's mother's profession, but he had to remind himself that his father was a rather successful navy captain from what he'd gathered. They did not seem to be short on money.

"There it is!" Alfred exclaimed excitedly. His walk turned into a jog and he let go of the monarch's hand. Arthur followed him up to the small gate. To his surprise, Alfred didn't stop at the fence. Using one hand for leverage, he easily jumped over it. Arthur eyed him sceptically, stopping a few metres from the gate. Surely, Alfred didn't expect him to follow like that? His gaze had apparently got through to the boy, for he chuckled. "Sorry, it's a magical gate – I can't open it."

Arthur couldn't help himself; he snorted. That was a magical gate? But it was so small! Why would someone even go through the trouble of enchanting it? Anyone could just follow Alfred's example of jumping over it. The princess strode up to the fence, brow creasing in confusion. He didn't get any vibes from the gate that indicated magical activity. It was just a plain wooden gate for all he knew. The gaze he sent Alfred was almost condescending as he snapped his fingers, making the gate swing open. Alfred jumped back to avoid being hit by the small door, and grinned at Arthur. "That's awesome!"

Arthur sent him an unimpressed look. "It wasn't enchanted," he said in a deadpan voice. It hadn't taken any effort to lift any enchantment or find a way around it, only to open the door through telekinesis. There hadn't been any magic near that gate. Alfred's grin caught him off guard.

"I know – I just wanted you to open it."

Oh… now _that_ was rude. He had practically tricked him! Arthur would have been mad if he wasn't already smiling with pride. Even if it was something simple like opening a small gate, telekinesis was one of the most difficult magic forms, and Arthur took pride in mastering it… or well, mastering it to some extent. It was highly unusual for anyone under sixteen to be half as skilled as he was. But no other thirteen-year-olds went through the same training either. "You could have just told me so…" Arthur said, walking up next to him.

Alfred shrugged, "Wouldn't have been as fun." He took Arthur's hand again, guiding him along the cobblestone path that led to the house's front. The garden was not as colourful and lively as Arthur had first expected. There was a small assortment of blue and indigo flowers just behind the building, but other than that everything was green. The lawn was surprisingly trimmed. The grass strands seemed to be shorter than thumbnails. It couldn't feel nice to walk around barefoot in that, Arthur noted, then tore his gaze away to stare at the front of the house. Yes, it was definitely larger than Arthur had imagined. It obviously belonged to a wealthy family, and yet Alfred didn't strike him as a spoiled boy. If he had to guess, Arthur would have thought it more likely that the boy came from a poor family, considering his vigilant personality.

"It looks nice," he finally said. Alfred nodded.

"Thanks. Takes a lot of people to maintain it though." Arthur sent him an inquiring look.

"Meaning?"

"Ah, Alfred, I was just going to go looking for you!" exclaimed a woman, standing in the doorway. The first thing that came to Arthur notice was that she wasn't Eleanor; the second was that she wore the outfit of a housemaid. "Please come inside – dinner will be ready soon." She held the door open for them. Arthur kept glancing at Alfred, looking for answers, but the other boy merely smiled at the maid, nodding.

"Thanks, Christine!" he said and practically dragged Arthur up the staircase to the small porch of the house. "And this is Ar–"

"– Artie –"

"– Artie," Alfred finished. He gave the princess an amused look, wondering why he encouraged the use of the nickname. Alfred didn't question it though. "And Artie, this is Christine! She's worked here for as long as I can remember." Christine nodded, smiling politely at Arthur.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Artie," she said.

"Likewise." Arthur returned the smile, wondering what she meant by "finally". He didn't have time to ponder though, for Alfred pulled him inside quickly, his excitement shining through.

"Dad!" Alfred called. It was followed by a sigh from the maid, who disappeared into a room down the hallway. Unlike the house's façade, the inside was surprisingly simple and relaxed. It had obviously been cleaned recently, but there were telltale signs such as the carpet running down the hallway being slightly askew – by the look of it, someone had come running too fast around the corner and skidded – and the small marks in the wall from where a door had been slammed open too violently, that indicated that the house was usually filled with life and thus also messier. The maid – _maids_, Arthur corrected himself as another one entered the hallway a little farther down – were probably needed much more than he had first thought. After all, Alfred lived here, and with such a big house on top of that it was to be expected. It just felt weird that a priest had housekeepers. "Dad, we're here!" Alfred shouted again.

Soon, loud footsteps could be heard coming from upstairs. If Arthur didn't know better, he would have guessed they belonged to a horse. Alfred's father must be rather large, though his profession spoke against being too plump. Henry Jones, coming down the stairs, proved to be anything but plump. The man was on the burly side with broad shoulders, prominent biceps, and a body that slimmed slightly at the waist and hips. He wore a white shirt much similar to Alfred's and a pair of black slacks. Boots adorned his feet – with the man's body weight on top of those low heels, it was no wonder his footsteps had sounded like thunder.

Henry's smile was broad, bright blue eyes glistening, and for a moment he looked just like Alfred – or well, an older version of Alfred. The only thing that set them apart was the hair. Whereas Alfred's was a lovely wheat-blond colour – much like his mother's – Henry's was considerably paler, almost borderline platinum blond. Looking at the man's tan skin, Arthur guessed that his hair was originally darker, but had become bleached after countless of days spent outside in the burning sun.

"Hey there!" He had a deep baritone voice. Once he had descended, he stuck his hand out towards Arthur. The princess gladly shook it, making it as firm as possible to impress. Henry seemed to notice and grinned. "You must be Arthur! I've heard so much about you. I'm Henry Jones." So this man already knew his name. Of course he did, if he'd "heard so much about him". Arthur's eyes flickered to Alfred for answers, only to see the boy sending his father a mild glare, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. Well, that was unexpected.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me Henry." He smiled warmly and then turned to his son, ruffling his hair. The boy swatted the hand away, obviously embarrassed. "Dinner will be served soon. Why don't you show your friend around? I have some things I need to finish in my study first."

Alfred nodded, and as Henry Jones disappeared upstairs again, he turned to Arthur. "Yeah, that's my dad. So, uh, you wanna see the house?" Arthur smiled. It wasn't often that Alfred acted this bashfully. The boy was usually radiating confidence.

"I would love to."

* * *

><p>Even though Alfred dragged him around the entire bottom floor, Arthur didn't see much of the house. He did not have time to, since his friend was far too eager with the tour and pulled him through door after door before the princess could take the interior in. One thing he did take notice of was that all furniture was more functional than decorative. Despite the grandeur of the actual building, the inside was relatively simple. Perhaps Alfred hadn't spent his life living in vast excess after all? In the main hallway of the bottom floor stood a longcase clock, its design fine and delicate. Just as Alfred was about to drag him upstairs, it began to sound, emitting six melodious clangs in tow. On cue, a maid appeared from a nearby room, telling them dinner was served. Alfred had stopped mid-step, and began to drag Arthur with him again, this time to the dining area. The first thing that struck Arthur as they now re-entered the room was the sweet aroma of spices. On the table was an assortment of delicious food. The princess felt his mouth water at the sight of seasoned vegetables, fried potatoes, juicy steaks, and what undoubtedly was delectable broth. Having been served food from the castle kitchen his entire life, Arthur's taste buds had become spoiled. This meal did however meet the usual standard of his dinners. At least the less formal ones.<p>

Alfred gestured for him to take a seat, and Arthur obliged, watching as the other sat across from him. He wasn't the only one who was looking forward to the meal, that much was obvious from Alfred's famished expression. It looked like he was about to steal all the steaks for himself. Soon, Henry joined them as well, and just as promised Eleanor remained absent. Arthur still couldn't help but feel a little paranoid though, for it wasn't an impossibility that the woman would finish early and head home. Her trip wouldn't take long if the ceremonies were held in the church just a hundred metres away. As the dinner proceeded, Arthur tried to dismiss any uneasy thoughts. He didn't want to ruin the mood, and more importantly he wanted to enjoy _himself_. It wasn't often that he got an opportunity like this – Eleanor shouldn't prevent him from making the most of it.

The food tasted heavenly. It might have had something to do with the fact that Arthur had eaten an unusually light lunch that day, but he liked to think that whoever had cooked the meal was simply very skilled. It was very different from his usual dinners at the castle too. The atmosphere here was light and carefree. More than once did Alfred speak with his mouth full of food, and his father's boisterous laugh resonated around the table every other minute. Arthur himself had a smile plastered on his face most of the time; soon his jaws were hurting from the excessive use. The temperature in the room rose, the boys' cheeks flushing with merriness and excitement. Even though Arthur didn't know him that well, Arthur could tell that Alfred's father was also feeling overly giddy. The man cracked joke after joke, almost sparing no time to eat. Arthur was thoroughly enjoying himself. At first it had been a little awkward with his practiced table manners that were more or less instinct by now, but once he saw how Alfred stuffed his mouth full of potatoes using a simple fork, Arthur had followed suit and tried to imitate.

Soon, almost all food had disappeared from the table. Alfred patted his stomach with a content sigh, and Arthur sipped at his drink to get the last of the steak down. It felt as if he wouldn't have to eat for days, as if his stomach was threatening to burst any minute. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.

"Make sure you thank Anne later," Henry said, sending his son a nod. Alfred grinned in reply, and Arthur could only assume that they were talking about the cook.

"Sure will!"

Before they knew it, two maids had entered the room and began to take away their plates and what few scraps of food remained from the dinner. Arthur was about to thank them and stand, but a gesture of Henry's hand had him remaining seated. The quizzical look he sent him didn't produce any answers, so Arthur stayed silent and waited for the older man to take initiative and start conversation. Alfred remained completely oblivious to the silent exchange – he was weighing on his chair, staring expectantly after the maids as they retreated to the kitchen with the dishes. Arthur soon understood why when they returned with a bowl of what first looked like lemonade, but on a closer inspection the princess realised the liquid was frozen. The next woman to enter the room carried a bowl of fresh fruit, and after her one who brought the table wear. Arthur stared at the dessert with mild curiosity, mostly entranced by all the bright colours, while Alfred was beaming. How he was supposed to fit any of it into his already full stomach was beyond the monarch.

"Man, it's been so long since we had frozen lemonade," the wheat-blonde said. It looked like he was about to help himself to the dessert, already reaching over the table to grab the big metal scoop from the bowl, but his father spoke up, making Alfred's hand freeze in mid-air.

"Before we begin I would like to say something. I have an announcement." Alfred immediately retracted his hand at that, looking pined as he forced himself to sit still on his chair.

"Announcement?" he asked, and Henry nodded. There was some conflict going on in those baby blues. It almost went unnoticed, but Arthur could tell that Alfred didn't expect what came next to be good. How could he, when Spades were at war and his father was one of their top captains? He would be called out again soon; it was only a question of when. "What's it about?"

"Well, it's more like news. Good news, actually." Henry rose from the table. Alfred jerked in his seat for a second, looking like he was about to follow suit. His father saw this and smiled. "Wait here, I'll be right back." And with that, he was gone. He left the room and thumps of heavy feet hitting the staircase could be heard seconds later.

"Do you have any idea what it's about?"

Alfred shook his head. He looked a little more at ease after the promise of good news, but apprehension still twisted his facial features. "No. I mean, nothing's really happened since he got home. I thought he was gonna be called out again, but…" He shrugged. Arthur wanted to suggest that they stay positive, but the hammering of feet drowned his first words, and moments later the navy captain re-entered the room. A bright grin was on his face, not unlike the one Alfred usually sported. In his hand was a parchment, new judging by its crisp white colour and lack of crinkles.

"This here," he said in a loud voice, gesturing to the paper, "is a letter from the Royal Naval Academy."

Arthur still understood little to nothing, but Alfred's eyes widened considerably. "The Naval Academy?"

"Yes." He walked over to his son and handed him the parchment. Alfred eyed the blank side with wonder before flipping it. There was a moment of silence while the boy interpreted the cursive writing. Arthur saw his brow crease in concentration, confusion, and disbelief. All the while he remained silent, stealing a glance at the beaming captain.

"Wait." Alfred finally looked up, a small smile now tugging at his lips. It was obviously restrained though – his jaws were unusually tense from keeping a huge grin from breaking out. "Is this…?"

"Yes, son. You've been accepted. Congrats!" The words had hardly left the man's lips before Alfred had jumped up from his chair to envelope him in a tight hug, but just as he was about to wrap his arms around his father, he hesitated. With the bright grin intact, he took a step back and held out his hand. His father laughed and gave it a hearty shake. Arthur was beginning to realise what was going on, and shared their smiles. It was cute, the way Alfred tried to act all mature while he obviously wanted to bounce up and down from excitement. It was a shame, really. Such a bright young boy shouldn't try to restrain himself, but if that letter said what Arthur thought it did, it was only natural for Alfred to want to be mature. After all, wasn't this too soon? Alfred was only fourteen. He had never heard of anyone going to the Naval Academy before turning sixteen, but times were changing. The war was probably the only reason why Alfred was accepted two years early.

Realisation suddenly hit Arthur. Now he saw the bigger image, the one where Alfred, only two or three years into the future, would be joining their army on the seas. Arthur felt sick. The frozen lemonade and fresh fruits suddenly didn't look so appetising, and the delectable meal was threatening to escape back up his throat. How could his father be so happy about this? He knew Alfred wanted to contribute to the war more than anyone, but what kind of father wanted his own son to be out there? What kind of father was willing to put his fourteen-year-old son up for military training? It felt as if he was watching from a distance now, as if the distance separating him from the Joneses was far greater than the mere expanse of the dining table. He no longer shared their joy or excitement. If anything he wanted it to stop. He would rather they cry in agony than celebrate the possibility of Alfred's death. The almost inevitability, if the war didn't end before his training was completed. And still they were smiling, exchanging encouraging and animated words. Arthur merely stared. The longcase clock struck 7.

"Hey. Hey, Artie! I got accepted into the RNA!" The princess' vision focused on Alfred again. The boy was talking to him as if he didn't already know when in fact, he knew and understood the meaning of this better than Alfred himself did.

"That's great, Alfred," was all he could muster himself to say. Alfred didn't notice his inner turmoil.

"I know, right!"

* * *

><p>It was truly a shame that the news had to come before dessert. Now, Arthur found it almost impossible to force the frozen drink and fruit down his throat, and even harder to make them stay in his stomach. The other two members around the table still didn't notice his distress though. It wasn't unexpected of Alfred, but Arthur thought at least Henry would have been better at reading people. As it was now, the two Joneses left the table with full stomachs and content smiles. Arthur, on the other hand, tried to keep the bile from coming up his throat. Still, he couldn't let this one thing ruin the evening. It would undoubtedly cause many problems in the future, but tonight wasn't about that. And it wasn't fair to Alfred. The boy was currently skipping up the stairs in front of him, excitedly rambling about how he wanted to show him his room. Sometimes he wondered whether Alfred's mind had stopped aging at the age of 7. When he wasn't acting serious or grave, he was incredibly childish and sometimes immature. Not that Arthur minded. It was amusing to watch and a rather pleasant contrast from the people at the castle.<p>

"Here it is!" the wheat-blond exclaimed. He was bouncing slightly on his heels in front of a white door in the wooden hallway. Arthur made an attempt at a smile as he was led inside. Just like the rest of the house's interior Alfred's room wasn't anything special. He had some necessary furniture, a few parchments with colourful drawings pinned on the walls, and Arthur recognised the boy's guitar standing propped up under the wide window – the sole source of daylight. It was facing the town instead of the estate's beautiful garden.

Alfred skipped over to his bed, jumping down on the covers and bouncing slightly on the surface. Arthur wished he he'd had the enthusiasm to mimic him. "So what do ya think?"

"It looks great. Very roomy," the princess said before walking over to sit down on the bed in a more relaxed manner. Alfred's eyes were glinting up at him.

"Thanks! You gotta show me your room sometime, too."

"Yes, sometime."

Alfred would not let them fall into silence and instead got up from the bed and grabbed the guitar. With a look of concentration he sat down again and began to tune it. Arthur could only watch. "Do you still play?"

"Yeah, it's fun… Hey, I've finished that song I was working on in class. Wanna hear it?" Arthur nodded, and the other boy wasted no time in picking the strings of his instruments. The same melancholic yet hopeful notes from the harbour all those years ago filled the air. Despite not having given it much thought, Arthur actually found himself remembering the melody. It was one he would always associate with that day; the most eventful day of his life so far. He remembered the nervous excitement he'd felt when first following Alfred to school, the fear when he was attacked by those bullies, and then the rest of the day as a blur of embarrassment, confusion, relaxation, and peace. The spot where he'd gotten the burn mark itched slightly. Arthur reached up to scratch at it with his eyes still trained on Alfred's fingers as they moved in repetitive yet complicated patterns across the guitar.

Then the music stopped. Arthur looked back up at Alfred just as the clock struck eight. His voice was almost drowned by the noise. "Would you sing to it?"

"Sing? No. I can hum?" the monarch suggested. Alfred's smile twitched slightly. Then he nodded. When the music began to play this time, Arthur hummed along softly to it. He could not remember some parts of it and had to completely improvise when Alfred began to play on the latest addition of notes. Still, it didn't sound too bad and Alfred sure seemed content. For most of the time, Arthur's eyes were trained on the guitar, but when he looked up at the end of the song he realised the other boy was staring at him. "What?"

"I wish you'd sing. Your voice is real pretty."

"Pretty?" Arthur sent him an incredulous look. "Well, sorry, but I won't sing."

There was a sigh, but Alfred was still smiling, albeit not as brightly as before. "Aw, fine. Some other time then." With that, Alfred jumped off the bed again to put away his guitar. Arthur passed the time with eyeing the books that filled the oaken shelves on Alfred's wall. Their spines were delicate and it took quite a number of them to fill the bookshelf to the brim.

"You like to read?"

"No, not really."

"Then why all the books?"

Alfred walked over and pulled out a few of the slim books, throwing one in Arthur's lap where he was still sitting on the bed. It was indeed light and delicate, not unlike the short stories the princess had read when he was younger. After flipping it open, it turned out to be quite different though. Just like the short stories, Alfred's book contained pictures. But unlike the short stories, there were more pictures than text. Whole pages were covered in pictures and only few lines of text. The artwork was quite simply, mostly just lines, as could be expected. The printing was slightly smooched in places, making the lines blurry and the text almost unintelligible. Arthur had never seen something quite like it. Alfred handed him a few more that he skimmed through. They looked much like the first one. "What are these?" he questioned.

"Visual stories." Alfred once again took a seat next to the monarch, opening one of his visual stories and gesturing to a few lines of text. "I usually get really bored and my head starts aching when reading, so my mom gave me these. She says they're better than nothing. They really are. Too bad the school books don't have pictures like these. I'd be a genius if that were the case."

Arthur hummed, eyes fixed on the black and white images. Alfred must have returned to the bookshelf for the next thing he knew another visual story was laid out before him. "This one's my favourite!" the wheat-blonde declared and lay down next to Arthur on the bed. He kept his chin propped up in one hand while the other generously turned a page for the royal boy. Arthur followed his example and lay down. The story was far from complex, something obviously meant for children or younger teens, but it was entertaining. There was a clear definition of what was good and what bad, nothing was in between. The protagonist was everything kindness and justice personified while the antagonist was the exact opposite. Arthur vaguely wondered how seriously Alfred took these views. They were obviously not realistic. But that probably wasn't the point. They were made to be entertaining, and Arthur found himself quite amused when only a few pages remained of the story.

"This is actually quite good," he commented. He could almost feel Alfred's smile.

"I knew you'd like it! This was one of my first ones. The hero sorta reminds me of my dad."

"Hmm, I can see why. How old were you when you got this?"

"I'd just turned eight, I think." Arthur hummed in reply, reading – or more like looking through – the current page, before asking Alfred if he was done. After a confirming reply, the princess flipped the page and continued reading. He didn't notice that he was the only one currently paying attention to the story, not until Alfred spoke up again. "You know… you have real beautiful eyes."

Not believing he'd heard correctly, Arthur turned his head to look at him. "My eyes?" He didn't receive a reply, and quite frankly Arthur couldn't muster another word either. He was stuck staring into Alfred's own sky blue orbs. When had he gotten this close? Arthur only watched in confusion as Alfred began to slowly lean forward, towards him. The other's cheeks were tinted a light pink and he looked torn between closing his eyes and watching Arthur. His pupils flickered around nervously. Arthur could feel his slightly uneven breath on his face now.

Then there was a loud, resonating noise, that of the longcase clock striking nine. Arthur's eyes widened as Alfred was caught off guard, clumsily bumping their noses together before scrambling back on the bed. The boys were panicking for completely different reasons, but Arthur hardly noticed Alfred's embarrassment at all. He was too busy getting to the door as quickly as possible; praying to God no one at the castle had noticed his absence yet. Nine o'clock had been the curfew, right? He sent Alfred a look. "I really, really need to go. I should have been home by now." He was expecting Alfred to offer to follow him out the door or something, but the other boy was completely frozen on the bed. Something that looked like dread contorted his features. "I… I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He received a shaky nod this time. Arthur frowned slightly, but didn't have time to worry about Alfred's uncharacteristic behaviour. He had to get home. Now. "Bye then!"

After that it was just running. Running and burning lungs. It was just like running back from the harbour, only a shorter distance and without Alfred to keep him company. Just what had gotten into the boy? First the weird comment about his eyes, and then… Arthur didn't know what. His behaviour had been uncalled for though. Or had he missed something? There was nothing weird about looking at another's eyes. But then again it had looked like Alfred was about to close his. But then again, no. There had been nothing weird about it, nothing except for Alfred's behaviour when he told him he had to leave.

Arthur was lucky; no one at the castle had noticed his absence, and he managed to sneak back up to his chambers without anyone seeing. Everything was normal and okay again until the next day. Arthur waited on the wall as usual, but his friend never showed up. The princess waited for hours, until he had to return back to the castle to dine. Perhaps Alfred was sick? That was what he told himself as he returned the next day. He waited patiently, legs swinging back and forth as he sat there alone on the cold stone. Alfred didn't show up that day either. Now Arthur was beginning to worry. Was the boy that badly ill, or had something happened? He had seemed healthy enough last time he saw him…

Was it something he had done?

Alfred _had_ acted strangely just before he left his house. Had he said something weird, something rude? Arthur couldn't recall no matter how many times he tried to replay the evening's events in his head. There had to be something he was missing. It frustrated him immensely, and as he pondered over it on the third day without Alfred he actually considered going over to his house to check on the boy. But there was the chance of Eleanor being there. Would it be worth being seen? No. Not if Alfred was actually just lying sick in bed. So Arthur continued to wait patiently.

As he walked to the wall on the fourth day, Arthur almost gave a shout of joy when he saw a shape huddled up on the edge. "Alfred!" he called, running over. As he came closer, he saw his friend wearing that signature smile of his. It calmed him a little. "What happened? Where were you? Were you ill?" Arthur asked, climbing up to sit next to him.

"Ill?" The look Alfred gave him was unreadable. "Uh, yeah. But I'm feeling much better now!"

"Good. That's good." Arthur smiled and the other returned it. He chose to ignore the dark bags under his eyes, the slight puffiness and bloodshot sclera; signs that he had been crying.

* * *

><p>AN

I'm not dead! And neither is this story. Really, I promise I'll finish it, even if it takes me a few years with my slow writing. xD

Anyway, a lot of things – not just my laziness – got in the way when I was trying to write this. Things have been a little tough for me outside the internet (I haven't had energy to do much of anything, so if I haven't replied to a PM yet it's not because I'm trying to ignore you! I'll get to writing those as soon as possible) but it's getting better :) Hopefully you won't have to wait so long for the next chapter. I'm also sorry to say that I have yet to read through this chapter. I'll get to it eventually, but right now I just felt the urge to post it. xD (I know that not much happened ;u; Next chapter though, I promise will contain more plot)

Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated, especially since I want to know if people still remember and want to continue reading this. :3


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